Page 21 of His To Unravel (His & Hers Duet #1)

“Who else?” He huffs a humorless laugh. “I’m just wondering how long before you see what’s right in front of you.”

Blood rushes to my ears, but I keep my tone measured. “Landon, we’ve been over this. I am seeing Nathaniel, and I do not have feelings for you.”

He looks at me and I see the frustration simmering beneath his usual easygoing demeanor. “You’re not the type to fall for a guy like that. He’s?—”

“Stop,” I interrupt, the word sharp. “You don’t even know him.”

Landon’s jaw locks, and for a moment, the air between us feels suffocating. “I know you , Olivia. And I know that you deserve better than someone who will…” His words trail off, leaving an unspoken warning hanging between us.

“You’re crossing a line,” I say evenly, setting my glass down.

His eyes soften, regret flickering there before stubbornness takes its place. “I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. When we both know we would be so good together. We are so good together, Olivia.”

Before I can respond, he reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist. My pulse ratchets, and I jerk back instinctively.

His hold tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. The din of Space Cowboy buzzes around me, a mix of laughter and clinking glasses that suddenly feels oddly distant. I can see the desperation flickering in his eyes, along with a mix of other emotions that I can’t decipher.

“Landon, let go,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremor that threatens to break through.

“Olivia, please, just listen,” he pleads, leaning in far too close for comfort. His other hand reaches up to cup my cheek. His breath is warm, heavy with alcohol, as he leans forward, his intentions unmistakable.

“Landon!” I snap, jerking my head back, panic setting in. But he doesn’t stop. His eyes, glassy and desperate, lock onto mine as he closes the distance, his lips just inches from mine.

My stomach turns, dread pooling in my chest. “Stop!” I manage to gasp, twisting away, shoving against him with my free hand.

Suddenly, a loud crack splits the air as Landon’s head slams against the table.

Landon slumps forward with a groan, finally releasing my wrist.

The world around me blurs. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my heart pounding in my ears.

I look up and see Nathaniel towering over Landon with his hand clamped around his neck.

The entire bar stills, the ambient noise dropping into a shocked silence. Nathaniel’s expression is lethal, his jaw set, blue eyes ice cold and unyielding. The rage simmering beneath the surface is palpable, making the air between us crackle .

“Keep your fucking hands off her.” Nathaniel’s voice is low, but the threat is clear.

Landon’s eyes widen, a flicker of fear breaking through his earlier bravado. He struggles against Nathaniel’s hold, but it’s futile. The room holds its collective breath as Nathaniel keeps him there for another heartbeat, ensuring his point is made.

“Understood?” Nathaniel asks, his tone cold and final.

Landon gives a tight nod, his features pale and eyes unfocused. Only then does Nathaniel release him, stepping back with an eerie calm.

Air rushes into my lungs as I scramble out of the booth, the adrenaline leaving my limbs weak. As I try to steady myself, Nathaniel’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against him.

“Are you all right?” he asks softly, lifting my wrist to inspect it, his thumb brushing over the reddened skin. The tension in his frame betrays how close he is to losing control.

“I’m fine,” I say, though my voice is still unsteady. “Just shaken up. Can we just get out of here?”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Of course.”

As he guides me toward the door, the low murmur of conversation resumes around us.

“Olivia!” Sophie’s voice cuts through the noise. She rushes toward us, Tyler trailing behind. Carolyn appears a moment later, looking concerned.

“What the hell just happened?” Carolyn asks, eyes flicking between me and Nathaniel.

“Things with Landon got a little out of hand, but Nathaniel handled it,” I say, downplaying the situation so we can leave.

Sophie’s gaze lands on my wrist and her expression darkens. “That asshole. Are you okay?”

Nathaniel wraps his arm around my waist. “I’ve got her,” he says, low but certain. I look up at him, and the raw concern in his eyes eases the tightness in my chest. I manage a small smile, yet again grounded by this man.

Carolyn’s eyes narrow, but she nods. “It’s a good thing you showed up, then. Olivia, text us the second you get home.”

“I will,” I promise.

We’re almost to the door when Landon’s voice erupts behind us.

“Hey! Caldwell! Where do you think you’re going?”

Time seems to slow as Nathaniel turns and Landon lunges at him, fists flying. Nathaniel pivots smoothly and catches Landon’s arm mid-swing, twisting it behind his back. He drives Landon toward the wall, pinning him there with effortless force.

“Enough,” Nathaniel says, his voice low and deadly. The finality of it seems to seep into Landon, who stills, chest heaving.

“Stay away from her. This is your only warning,” Nathaniel says, the venom in his voice unmistakable.

Landon laughs bitterly. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Caldwell. You’ll be old news by finals.”

Not taking the bait, Nathaniel shakes his head before roughly releasing Landon. He turns back to me, his eyes still burning, but with something softer flickering underneath.

Taking my hand, he leads me outside, where the cool night air instantly chills my flushed skin.

The street is quiet, the muffled sounds of the bar fading behind us.

I feel the weight of what just happened settle over me, but Nathaniel’s presence, solid and unwavering beside me, stills the whirlwind of emotions.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks, his voice softened now, the edges of his earlier fury smoothed out.

I nod, unable to find words. He watches me for a moment longer, his hand resting at the small of my back with a touch that is both steadying and possessive.

“Let’s go,” he says, guiding me to his Aston Martin, releasing my hand only long enough to open the passenger door .

As we pull away, we leave the chaos behind us and step into the shadowed stillness of the night.

The glow of passing streetlights flicker across the interior of Nathaniel’s car, casting fleeting patterns over the dashboard and tracing the hard lines of his profile.

The silence between us is thick, punctuated only by the rhythmic purr of the engine and the occasional rustle as I shift in my seat.

The chaotic scene plays on a loop in my mind—Landon’s grip, the fear tightening in my chest, the relief of Nathaniel’s presence. Then, the expressions on my friends’ faces, the hush that followed our exit. I can’t help but wonder now what this means for our social circle moving forward…

My pulse has finally begun to slow, the initial adrenaline bleeding away and leaving behind an aching exhaustion. I glance at Nathaniel, the set of his jaw still rigid as he focuses on the road. I lean slightly in his direction, seeking reassurance in the closeness.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels strange to speak, as if breaking a spell.

His eyes flick toward me, blue and intent, before returning to the road. “For what?”

“For putting myself in that situation,” I admit, the guilt prickling at the edges of my mind. It’s irrational, I know—Landon’s actions are his own, not mine—but the feeling persists.

Nathaniel’s grip tightens on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under the pressure. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he says firmly. “He put his hands on you, and I had to correct him. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Warmth unfurls in my chest at the certainty in his voice, displacing some of the unease that lingers. His protectiveness, while intense, is a comfort.

I turn toward him slightly, watching the lines of his face in profile—the tension, the control. How easily he snapped into violence, and how calmly he came back from it. A shiver runs through me, an unsettling mix of gratitude and something that feels a lot like dependence.

As the cityscape shifts to quieter, more refined streets, I feel a sense of anticipation curl low in my stomach.

The events of the night seem to recede slightly, replaced by an awareness of where we are heading—and what might come next.

I’ve never been to Nathaniel’s apartment, but he told me once it wasn’t far from campus, tucked away in one of the older, quieter neighborhoods.

And now, as he takes a familiar left and my pulse quickens, I just know.

Nathaniel’s hand slips from the wheel and finds mine, giving a reassuring squeeze.

We pull up to his apartment building, the tall structure looming against the inky sky.

Nathaniel kills the engine and turns to me fully, his gaze searching mine with an intensity that makes my heart stutter.

His fingers linger on my hand, thumb brushing over my knuckles in a silent promise.

“Come inside,” he says, the words simple but heavy with unspoken meaning.

I feel the tension in my shoulders release as I step out of the car. The bar, Landon, the chaos—all of it seems to melt away, replaced by the certainty of Nathaniel’s presence as he leads me inside, his hand never leaving mine.