Dex is here.
I force the hearts out of my eyes. He showed up, and he just slugged the guy who was coming onto me, no questions asked. He looks fine as fuck as our eyes meet, and I think I realize in the moment how incredibly powerful the feelings I have for him have become.
He’s becoming someone who takes care of the people around him rather than taking care of his own needs first. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I know that’s true.
I mean, we need to work on his reactive nature a bit, but it would appear that both times I’ve seen him throw a punch, he’s done itfor me.
Does that mean he’s changing? Or is this just who he always was? Either way, I hope there could be a future for us.
That could be the vodka talking. I think I’m drunker than I even realized.
Reality plows into me as I realize I have no clue why he’s actually here.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Jack?” I ask.
“He’s with Milton. Are you okay?”
My brows crash together. “I’m fine,” I say, though as the guy on the floor clutches his jaw in pain, I’m suddenly notfeelingvery fine. In fact, I’m pretty sure the alcohol is ready to make an exit, and not through the standard pathways.
“Shit,” I mutter, and I cover my mouth as I feel my stomach heave.
There’s no time to get to the bathroom.
I don’t have enough time to react. This is my first time being this drunk, and I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in place as I bend over at the waist and proceed to throw up all over the floor.
And Dex’s shoes.
And possibly on the guy who was dancing with me uninvited, though I suppose I’ll never know for sure.
Guess myworst date everwasn’t the only one to pull that move.
“Shit!” Dex says beside me, and he hauls me up into his arms and carries me out of the club. I see Ivy rushing after us behind his shoulder, but he can’t seem to be moved to notice he’s leaving his sister behind.
“Dex, what are you doing here?” Ivy yells at him once we’re outside the club and it’s quiet. She doesn’t need to be yelling, and suddenly my head is pounding.
“I got Ainsley’s text. I called, and it sounded like something was wrong, so I came and found you,” he says. He’s still holding me in his arms, and I don’t really want him to let me go since I don’t feel like I could function properly if he did.
I’m suddenly so sleepy.
“What did she text you that you came running?” Ivy asks.
He flashes his phone at his sister, and out of curiosity and not feeling quite as drunk now that I threw up, I ask, “Can I see?”
I read the screen.
Ainsley:Help chekkin in!!!
“She asked for help with three exclamation points, so here I am to help,” he says.
“I meant to say,hey, just checking in,” I mutter.
Ivy tilts her head. “Wait a minute. Since when do you come running when someone needs help?”
We exchange a glance. I’m not sober enough to pretend like I’m not developing some strong feelings for her brother, so I let him field that question.
“Since the person who I’ve hired to take care of my kid asks for it,” he says flatly.
There’s more to it than that, obviously, but he doesn’t allow any further questions. Instead, he carries me to the car waiting out front, Ivy’s birthday celebration coming to an end thanks to my drunken text and her stupid, overprotective big brother and the feelings simmering between us.
