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I’d only had one drink, but I could suddenly feel the alcohol warming my stomach and buzzing through my system, making me feel just a bit off-kilter. I reached up and brushed the hair from my cheek, and as I did a green light shone across his face, making him look like a monster... the way he was staring at me...
I stumbled backward, and he caught me.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just . . .”
Both of his hands were now on my hips, dangerously close to my ass, and as people pulsed and danced around us, he stared down at me. I would’ve thought he was going to kiss me except there was something... different in his eyes. Like he was studying me. Waiting for something. Permission, maybe?
Someone bumped into me from behind, pushing me further into him. Misreading the situation, he clutched me tighter. Too tight. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as my vision tunneled. Everything from the past weeks began to suffocate me and I had to get out of there.
Away, away, away.
I couldn’t focus on anything else as I began to shove at his chest, but he wouldn’t let me go. Every sixth sense in my body was screaming at me to run but I couldn’t and that was making it worse. I’d never had a panic attack in public before, and I did not want tonight to be the first.
Then, in the next heartbeat, I found myself ripped from Al’s arms and I felt like I could breathe again.
“Hands off, asshole.”
Shocked, I glanced over at Justin’s seething profile as he stared down Al with a death glare.
“Who the fuck are you?” Al demanded.
“You do not want to find out.” Justin turned to me. “You alright?”
“What are you doing here?” Shock was giving way to relief, but adrenaline was making me start to tremble.
A black brow winged up. “What part of ‘I go where you go’ did you not understand?”
“I...” My brain was short-circuiting, seeing him there after all this time, looking like an avenging god in all black. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think now that you’ve moved out.”
Without a word, he grabbed my arm to steer me off the dance floor.
“Hey,” Al piped up. “We were still dancing.”
“She’s done,” Justin tossed over his shoulder.
Once we were away from the crowd, I yanked my arm free, making him stop and turn to me with a sigh. “Olivia—”
“No!” I held up a hand. “Don’t you ‘Olivia’ me! You’ve been gone for days, with hardly a word, but always around like some kind of invisible ninja...”
His mouth quirked. “Invisible ninja?”
“Shut up. You know what I mean.”
He reached out to move me out of the way as a couple passed us, bringing me close enough to catch his dark ocean and sandalwood scent, making me weak in the knees.
I forced myself to look up into his eyes, which were darker in this lighting, but still clear blue, and they dragged the truth from me. “You let me get attached to you, then you left. Now you just show up here...” I choked back my stupid emotion, blaming it on the alcohol. “I’m just feeling a little whiplashed.”
“I never left,” he confessed, his voice so low, I almost don’t hear it.
“What?”
“You heard me.” His hands were on my waist now, definitely not professional, but just what I wanted.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been sleeping in my truck, never more than a mile from your house. I drive by your place and the studio several times every day and night. Sometimes I park outside and keep an eye on things.”