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The second you saw me, I could feel it so I moved to stand in front of him, forcing you both to stop.

You stopped before Pedro, and the look on your face gutted me a little. Your lips were curved and slowly stretching higher though I could see that you were biting the inside of your cheek to stop it, and your brown eyes were wide with hope. Then I noticed you move slightly and caught sight of your hand wrapped in his and felt a little petulant. I wanted to blow past you guys and get the hell out of there, but in the act of looking at your hand, my eyes had gotten caught on your dress and I was already checking you out like a giant sleazeball.

“Hey, Miller, long time no see. I heard you were up in Alaska. Are you back for the summer?” I noticed Pedro smile briefly, like he knew what I was thinking.

I shook my head, realizing there was just going to be one joker after another in line to be with you. “No,” I replied. “I’m enrolled to start school in San Diego with Ace.” I kept my eyes on Pedro, feeling like he was challenging me.

“We were just going to find the others, you want to come?” I couldn’t look at you. I knew that if you still had that same hopeful expression, I’d have caved.

“No, I just came from there. I think I’m going to check out the rest of the excitement and get a drink.”

Done with the scene, I stepped aside and noticed Pedro move forward, still holding your right hand. My hand moved, lightning quick, faster than I had time to process the movement, because otherwise, I would have stopped it. My knuckles grazed yours, and by that point I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. My finger followed the trail, linking with your pinky for the briefest of seconds before we parted.

I tried not to watch you with him. I knew for my own sanity I should have gone outside, or back into the kitchen, but I couldn’t stop watching. Part of it was just the desire to see you, but a dark and pain-inducing side had me needing to watch you interact with other guys. You and Pedro danced together for an ungodly amount of time, and the longer I watched, the more I convinced myself that liking you was a terrible idea.

After a while, I noticed you break away from the others and point toward the back door, and I thought to myself that something always had you needing to go outside. And I wondered if you were like Landon, and started to feel trapped when you were around too many people. Pedro was following close behind and I shook my head, and headed back to the kitchen.

“Hey, where have you been, man?”

I drained the rest of my beer and turned to look at Jameson. “Nowhere. I’m ready to go. I’m going to call a cab so you guys can have the Jeep.”

Jameson’s brows furrowed and his chin lifted to see something over my shoulder. The cup he was holding dropped, splashing both of us with beer that I barely felt as I turned to see what had him so off kilter. It was you. You were struggling against that fucking asshole that to this day, makes my muscles heat with the desire to beat him to a pulp.

I don’t even know what happened to my own cup. I didn’t register anything until someone pushed against my chest, slowing me down from getting to you. Several shoves and a few threats later, I broke free from the tangle of arms, my focus still on you. My steps increased as I got closer, and I heard Jameson assure me he’d get you.

My fist connected with the side of the guy’s face as soon as Jameson pulled you a safe distance from the mess.

The fight was instinctual. I wasn’t aiming to show those guys that I was stronger, or faster. I hit them where they were going to feel the most amount of pain without inflicting serious damage so that if they ever considered doing that shit again, they would know exactly what it would lead to.

I was ensuring he understood the message when I felt a hand on my arm. It was smaller than the others, and the intent wasn’t to pull me away. You knew you couldn’t pull me back, so you just placed it against my arm, like you knew then the control you have over me. Your voice registered as quickly as your touch. I turned to look over my shoulder and the look on your face washed away the only intention I had just seconds before. You were staring at me like I was a monster.

“Stop. Please stop.” My hands released from the hold I had on the guy as you moved back and effortlessly made your way through the crowd that parted like the Red Sea.

“Ace!” I didn’t bother looking back to assess the damage we’d inflicted. As much as I felt the need to do so to ensure they paid for their sick attempts, I needed to get to you more.

You didn’t slow down, streaming through bodies with the intention of leaving making me quicken my pace.

Some random guy reached out, and began dancing with you, and I felt the anger rise in me again. The desire to punch him pooled in my fists until I saw his hands drop as I neared. He backed off without a second glance in your direction as he muttered an apology.

We hit the front door and I led you to the side of the house, where I’d noticed a bench upon arriving. Thankfully, you didn’t argue as you sat down without looking at me and took a few deep breaths while looking up at the sky. Your hair was curled that night in large waves. I still remember the temptation to knot my fingers in it and how disappointed I felt when you erased that mental image by pulling it up and tying it to the top of your head, exposing your shoulders and neck to me instead. I quickly forgot all about your hair, because, babe, there are few things more beautiful than the curve of your neck and the angle of your jaw.

“Ace, I know you’re pissed—”

“I’m not pissed, Max! I’m freaking overwhelmed and a little freaked out at the moment!” You looked taken aback by your own admission, or maybe the volume at which it was delivered. Either way, your words relaxed me a little more than they should’ve just to know you didn’t hate me. “What in the hell was that? You went nuts! Are you okay?” Your eyes focused on mine and then travelled down to my abdomen. Your words served to create new wave of frustration. Kill him? Please tell me you were kidding, babe? I knew he’d feel it the next day, but I still think that guy and his friends should have been left out on a deserted island for what they tried.

I swallowed my anger, because I knew you weren’t used to that shit like I was. “I’m fine. Ace, that guy was going to …” I stopped, noticing that your mouth had fallen open and your eyes had grown larger, finally registering my appearance. I was a mess, and it’s kind of a shame, I liked that shirt. But, it was covered with blood splatters. I quickly pulled it off, and used the side that was still mostly clean and warm from being against my skin to wipe my arms and face.

“Ace, that guy and his friends were going to hurt you,” I wanted you to see the truth, the imminent threat that you’d been in so you could understand my reactions without freaking you out. “Fuck.” My mind was in a million places as I tried to best route the conversation, still distracted with the thought that the assholes might come out, seeking revenge, and thinking about where I would tell you to run, and fearing that you wouldn’t. I think I knew then, you would never have left me.

“You always want to think everyone is nice and good, and it’s great to be all Anne Frank about humanity, but you have to have a little bit of self-preservation and realize that there are some seriously fucked-up people. It took Jameson and me forever to get to you. Then when his friends jumped me and I realized it was a team operation, I knew shit could’ve gotten really bad. People attack in groups like that for fucked-up reasons.” The way your knuckles turned white and pronounced while wrapping around the seat of the bench, and your eyes became bright and unfocussed, told me you understood there was a threat but it was like you were trying to fight the realization. Why? Was it that you didn’t want to think someone would do that? Or because you still didn’t think they would?