Then I watch three men circle them like sharks who've smelled blood in the water. They insert themselves into the dance without invitation. One of them—tall, blond, way too pretty for his own good—positions himself behind Elena. Gets closer than he has any right to be.
My hand tightens around my glass.
Elena hasn't looked in my direction once since hitting the dance floor. She's completely absorbed in the music and the attention. Her hips move in ways that make my jaw clench. The blonde guy's hands hover near her waist like he's trying to decide if he can get away with touching her.
He's about to find out the answer is no.
I'm off my barstool and cutting through the crowd. The blonde guy has his hands on Elena's hips now. She's laughing and swaying against him like she doesn't have a care in the world.
Like I'm not standing fifteen feet away watching this happen.
When I reach them, I don't say a word. Just position myself between Elena and pretty boy with enough menace in my posture that he immediately steps back.
"Hey man, we're just dancing—" he starts.
"Not anymore." I turn to Elena. "We're leaving."
Her eyes are glassy from alcohol but there's still plenty of fire in them. "I'm not done dancing."
"Yes. You are."
"Actually—" The blonde idiot puts his hand on my shoulder. Big mistake.
I grab his wrist and twist just enough to make my point without breaking anything. "Touch me again and you'll be leaving in an ambulance."
He stumbles backward.
Elena sways slightly. Her friend Becca appears at her elbow looking concerned. "Elena, you okay?"
"She's fine. I'm taking her home." I signal to Lorenzo who's been watching from across the room. He nods and moves toward Becca. "My guy will make sure you get home safe."
"No!" Elena reaches her hand out for the blonde guy, who's face goes instantly pale. "He's coming home with me."
Absolutely fucking not.
"Elena—" Becca starts.
"I'm fine! Marco's just being—" She giggles, leaning into the pretty boy. "He's being Marco."
I've had enough. I pull Elena away from him with more force than necessary. She stumbles into my chest and I have to catch her to keep her upright.
"We're leaving," I tell her again. Then I look at the guy. "And you're going to walk away and forget you ever met her."
His eyes dart between Elena and me. "Is this guy for real?"
"You better go before he kills you," Elena laughs like this is hilarious.
Smart kid. He takes off without another word.
I keep my arm around Elena's waist and guide her toward the exit. She's unsteady on her feet and trying to turn back to the dance floor. Behind us, I can hear Lorenzo doing the same with Becca—much more politely since she's actually cooperating.
"I was having fun," Elena whines as we hit the cool night air.
"You were making a spectacle."
"So? It's girls' night!" She tries to pull away but I tighten my grip. "You're not supposed to be here anyway. You're supposed to be at the bar minding your own business."
"You think I was going to sit there and watch some asshole put his hands all over you?"
