James turns first, positioning himself squarely between Christopher and me. "No."
"I'm sorry?" Christopher's practiced charm falters.
"You should be." James's voice is conversational, almost pleasant. Terrifying. "But the answer is still no. Move along."
"I wasn't talking to you," Christopher says, trying to look past James at me.
"And I don't give a fuck." James's voice stays quiet and conversational. But there's steel underneath. "You're done talking to him. Period."
Christopher's smile tightens. "I'm not sure you understand who you're speaking to?—"
"I understand you're three seconds from a very public conversation about what happens to men who assault teenagers." James takes a step forward. Christopher takes one back. "Two seconds."
"That's—that's slander?—"
"Is it?" James tilts his head. "Caleb, want to file a police report right now? I'm sure the statute of limitations hasn't run out on sexual assault."
My voice won't work, but apparently, James doesn't need my confirmation.
"Didn't think so. And you're about to become the guy who learns what happens when you approach my boyfriend without permission."
"This is ridiculous," Christopher sputters. "Caleb, tell your... friend... that he's making a scene."
James doesn't let me answer. "Make a scene? I haven't even started. But I'm happy to explain, loudly, exactly what kind of man preys on barely-legal teenagers at family events. Do the Montgomerys want that conversation happening in front of everyone here? So much harder to buy your way out of it when there are witnesses."
Christopher's face goes pale. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Guest house. Bruises on his wrists. Sound familiar?" James's smile is vicious.
Christopher looks at me, but James shifts again, blocking his view completely.
"Let me make this abundantly clear." James's voice drops even lower. "You're going to fuck off to whatever corner of this event is furthest from us. You're going to stay there. And if I see you within ten feet of Caleb for the rest of the night, hell, for the rest of your life, I will make it my personal mission to ensure every person in this room knows exactly what you did."
"His father won't allow?—"
"His father," James says coldly, "protected you once. Want to bet he'll do it again with witnesses and a formal complaint? Because I'm very good at documentation. It's literally what I do."
Christopher glances around, clearly aware that people are starting to notice that something is happening over here. "You're being absurd."
"And you're a predatory fuck who thinks money protects you." Still quiet. Still calm. "Here's the thing, I don't give a shit about your family's donations. I don't need your father'sconnections. Which means I have absolutely nothing stopping me from uploading this conversation. Oh, did I mention I started recording a few minutes ago? It's legal to do that, by the way."
James barely pauses as he takes Christopher apart. "I will upload this to every social media platform I can think of, complete with context about what you did four years ago."
"You wouldn't dare?—"
"Try me." James's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm a computer science student, and while I specialize in security, I know exactly how to make things go viral. And I'm petty enough to make it my fucking thesis project if necessary."
The color drains from Christopher's face.
"Walk away," James says quietly. "Right now."
Can't move. Can't think.
Did James just threaten to make destroying Christopher his thesis project? Recorded the whole confrontation. Said he'd make it go viral. That was… fuck. That was hot. No. Focus. Protective. Appreciated. And absolutely making me reconsider what this fake dating thing actually means.
My mother notices, of course. She notices everything. I catch her watching the confrontation between Christopher and us from across the room. Her expression is unreadable, but her posture is rigid. When she pulls me aside near the end of the evening, giving it just enough time to seem natural, her disapproval is obvious.
"Your friend seems quite... territorial," she observes. "He's not very subtle."Right. Because the problem is James defending me, not Christopher assaulting me.
