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Let him look. Let him burn.
“Pick a bar,” he growled. “One where no one knows your name.”
I blinked slowly, deliberately. “So now you’re letting me?”
His mouth twitched, just a fraction. “No. I’m watching you.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” I stepped back, just out of reach, forcing him to follow. “You watching me? Because from here, it kind of looks like you’re chasing.”
I turned then, heading down the sidewalk, hips swaying like I was born to provoke.
His footsteps followed, quiet and lethal.
We passed a row of bars, but I didn’t stop until we reached a dive with flickering neon, a name half burned out, and zero chance of a crowd. The kind of place where people minded their business and drinks came in plastic cups.
Perfect.
I pushed the door open, the scent of old beer and cheaper bourbon rushing out to greet me. A country ballad crackled from the jukebox. A few patrons glanced up—none of them interested enough to recognize me.
I felt him behind me as I crossed to the bar. Heat. Gravity. Danger.
I didn’t order a drink. I just turned, leaned back against the counter, and looked at him.
He stood just inside the door, jaw hard, arms crossed, eyes burning.
“You came,” I said softly.
“You ran,” he said back.
“I wanted you to follow.”
And then I did something that surprised even me.
I reached for him.
Not his hand. Not his arm.
I reached for the waistband of his jeans and tugged him forward, inch by inch, until the space between us disappeared and my mouth was almost at his ear.
“You can still walk away, Elias. Go home. Pretend you’re not losing control.”
His hand slid to my hip again. His grip was bruising. “I’m not losing control,” he said, voice like gravel. “I’m choosing what to do with it.”
The bartender cleared his throat, and I glanced over.
“One whiskey, neat,” I said, still looking at Elias. “And one Coke.”
Elias didn’t object. Didn’t move. Just stood there like a storm with a fuse burning slow.
And I?
I planned to light it. Every last inch.
10
ELIAS
The dive bar’s neon buzzed like a dying insect, casting a sickly red glow over Vivi’s skin as she leaned against the counter, her tank top clinging to her curves. Her green eyes locked on mine, sharp and defiant, daring me to cross the line I’d been toeing since the moment I saw her. My blood roared, the demon inside me clawing at its cage, hungry for her—her heat, her chaos, her fucking soul. She was playing with fire like she was born to burn me alive.