"You forget how hard it is to ignore someone who looks the way you do," He replied smoothly, taking advantage of the close proximity between the two of us.
Running his large hands slowly down my arms before looping them around my waist possessively...
I slammed the door shut behind me, the silence of the penthouse hitting me like a brick wall. It's past two in the morning. I knew she was out with Renai, knew she'd probably be late—hell, I was prepared for that. But this late?
It was past three in the fucking morning, and I was still sitting on the couch, staring at the clock like it was taunting me. I knew she'd be out late—hell, I'd even expected it. But this late? I didn't like it. Not one bit. I was sitting here staring at the door like a fucking idiot.
The frustration simmering in my chest wasn't just because of the hour. It was the way she'd left without saying much, the way she always did.
She was 19. I knew she wanted her freedom. But she had no fucking idea how dangerous it could be, especially for someone like her. It pissed me off that she was so damn reckless.
I told myself I wouldn't wait up for her. She was an adult. She could take care of herself. But when midnight turned into 3 a.m. and she still wasn't back, something in me wouldn't let it go.
My phone buzzed on the counter, pulling me from my thoughts. It was a message from Ezra, my best friend—her brother.
"She still not home?"
I texted back quickly, "Nope. Getting late."
I paced the living room, the city lights flickering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The penthouse felt too big, too quiet, except for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional sigh that escaped me. Damn it, why did I even care?
It wasn't my job to worry about her. She wasn't my responsibility. But still, I stayed awake, sitting on edge like some fucking babysitter waiting for the kid to come home from prom.
When the sound of the elevator finally reached my ears, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The doors slid open, and there she was, stumbling in with Renai holding her up.
Ahvi's heels clacked unevenly on the marble floor, her steps unsteady. Her hair was a mess, and the skirt she was wearing—if you could even call it a skirt—looked like it belonged to someone with a lot less self-preservation. Renai wasn't much better off, though she seemed a little more coherent, her arm slung around Ahvi's waist to keep her upright.
"Finally," I said, crossing my arms and leaning against the couch. My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I was too pissed to care. "You know what time it is?"
