HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

Chapter 8 : The Instinct.

Jax's POV:

The shots burned on the way down, and for a moment, everything around me seemed to blur—Miles laughing, Alex egging everyone on, the music thumping through the house. This was supposed to be my scene. My comfort zone. But my head wasn't in it.

I couldn't stop thinking about Emma.

After the last shot hit the table, I slipped away from the group, ignoring their calls for another round. My eyes scanned the crowded room, searching for that flash of dark ginger hair. I wasn't even sure why I cared so much. Maybe it was her quiet demeanor, the way she seemed to stand apart from everyone else, or maybe it was those blue eyes that held more than she let on.

But when I finally spotted her in the far corner, my blood froze.

There was some guy leaning in close, talking to her—too close. His body language screamed casual arrogance, like he thought he owned the space around her. And Emma... she looked uncomfortable. I could see it in the way her body stiffened, the way she avoided eye contact, her grip tightening around her cup as if it was her only lifeline.

For a second, I stayed where I was, just watching. I could tell she wasn't interested in the conversation. She was trying to back away, to put distance between them, but the guy wasn't getting the message. His grin grew wider, and then his hand moved—right to her waist.

That was it.

I didn't think. I didn't pause. My body reacted on instinct, and before I even realized it, I was pushing through the crowd, every muscle in my body tense. My heart was pounding, not from the alcohol, but from the surge of anger that was rising in my chest.

By the time I reached them, the guy was still smirking, his hand lingering on Emma's waist like he had any right to touch her. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion, but I wasn't looking at her anymore.

I grabbed the guy by the collar, yanking him away from Emma with more force than I intended. His eyes flashed with surprise, and then irritation, but I didn't care.

"Back off," I growled, my voice low.

Whoa, man, what's your problem?" the guy spat, trying to straighten himself, but he was smaller than me, not built for a fight.

"My problem?" I stepped closer, my hands still clenched. "You don't touch her. Got it?"

The guy's smug expression faltered, realizing he wasn't in control of the situation anymore. His eyes flicked between me and Emma, calculating whether it was worth pushing this any further.

"Whatever," he muttered, backing off with a half-hearted shrug. "She didn't say anything."

"She doesn't have to," I snapped, stepping between him and Emma, making sure there was no mistake about what would happen if he tried anything again.

He scowled but didn't say another word before turning and disappearing into the crowd, clearly not interested in making more of a scene.

As soon as he was gone, I felt the adrenaline drain from me, leaving behind the thudding in my chest. I hadn't realized how tightly I'd been holding myself, and as I exhaled, I finally turned to Emma.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice softening.

She nodded, her eyes still wide with surprise, but there was something else there, too—confusion, maybe. Like she was trying to figure out what had just happened, why I'd stepped in like that.

"You didn't have to do that," she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the party.

"I know," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to shake off the tension. "But I wasn't gonna stand by and let that idiot keep pushing."

Emma glanced down, her fingers nervously brushing her hair behind her ear. "Thanks."

There was a pause, a weird kind of silence between us despite the chaos around us. I could tell she wasn't used to someone stepping in for her like that. It wasn't just the guy—she seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation, like the attention itself was too much.

I wasn't sure what to say next, but I found myself blurting out, "You wanna get out of here? I mean, just... away from the party?"

Emma looked up at me, surprised by the offer. For a moment, she hesitated, like she was weighing her options. But then she nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Without another word, we slipped through the crowded house and out the back door, the cool night air hitting us as we stepped into the yard. The noise of the party faded behind us, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the distant hum of traffic. It was quieter out here, less chaotic.

We walked in silence for a while, neither of us really sure what to say, until we reached the edge of the yard where a stone wall separated Miles' property from the woods beyond. Emma leaned against it, her arms folded over her chest, staring up at the sky.

"You really didn't have to do that," she said again, her voice softer now, like she was still processing everything.

"I know," I said, leaning next to her. "But I wanted to."

She glanced over at me, her blue eyes catching the dim light from the house. "Why?"

The question caught me off guard. I didn't have a neat answer for her. I hadn't really thought it through—why I'd stepped in, why I cared so much that some random guy was bothering her. But standing there, with her looking up at me, I realized that maybe it wasn't so random after all.

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice low. "You just... looked like you needed someone to."

Emma didn't say anything for a moment, just looked back at the sky. "I guess I did," she finally whispered.

We stayed there for a while, standing in the quiet together, the party behind us feeling like a world away. And for the first time that night, everything felt calm. Everything felt right.