Michael is already beside them, steady and silent, reinforcing the line Wes has drawn. Dow looks from Wes to Michael, then around the room, realizing there’s no support coming.
His shoulders sag a fraction. He swallows, jaw tight. He turns his head just enough to look past Wes. “I… shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” he mutters, words thick but clear enough. “I’m sorry.”
Wes holds his gaze a second longer, making sure it’s real. “Say it properly.”
Dow exhales, defeated. “I’m sorry, Hailey.”
Only then does Wes step back half a pace. “Good. Now you’re leaving.”
Michael takes Dow by the elbow and guides him toward the door. Dow doesn’t argue this time. As he’s walked out, he keeps his head down, the weight of the room heavy on him.
The door closes behind them.
Wes stays where he is for a moment, still between me and the space Dow occupied, his posture easing only when the threat is completely gone. He turns slightly, just enough to check my face.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod, my hands still trembling, but my breath coming easier now.
“I’m taking her home,” Wes says to Melissa. “You’ll have a quiet night from now on. If you need help, Michael will be here.”
She doesn’t argue, half because his tone makes it clear it’s an order and second because he gently puts his hand on my lower back and guides me out of the bar before Melissa has a chance to say anything.
“I can’t drive,” I whisper.
“I’m well aware.”
“You … You had a beer.”
“I’m perfectly safe to drive. Safer than you,” he says, the words ground out between his teeth.
He walks me to my car without a word, close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him. When we reach it, he holds out his hand for the keys. I don’t hesitate. I place them in his palm like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He opens the door for me and waits until I’m seated before leaning in slightly. For a second, our faces are too close. I can’t stop looking at him. He still looks wound tight, like the fightnever really ended for him, like something is chewing at the edges of his control.
“Seatbelt,” he says quietly.
I obey, hands clumsy. He shuts the door with care, almost gentle, then moves around the car and gets in behind the wheel. I don’t ask how he knows where my dorm is. I assume he does. Or that he asked. Or that he simply noticed. Right now, I’m not sure I could form a full sentence even if I tried.
He pulls out smoothly, eyes forward, jaw set. His hands grip the steering wheel a little too tightly, knuckles pale, like it’s the only thing keeping him anchored. He looks as charged as Dow did before he lost control—but the difference is stark.
Wes is holding it all in.
The power is there. I saw it. How fast he moved. How easily he took over. How completely he ended it. Seeing that calm authority clash with the restraint he’s forcing on himself now makes my breath catch. My body reacts before my mind can make sense of it, a low ripple of something warm and confusing that I don’t yet have a name for.
He’s always composed. Always steady.
And knowing how much force he keeps leashed inside himself—how deliberately he chooses not to unleash it—does something to me I don’t fully understand.
Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s like to be turned on. Just because I’ve stopped every make-out session at second base doesn’t mean I haven’t gotten wet. Right now, watching Wes trying to control himself while clearly seething has me on another level entirely. I’m vibrating, sure I’m hot to the touch, and can’t breathe without getting caught in his aura.
It’s only when I’m out of the car and at my dorm that I can suck in a full breathe and a part of me hates it. He’s still right there, glancing around like preparing for another attack. When his eyes finally land on me, they’re sizzling. My knees go weak, but I still remember my manners.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He brushes my hair behind my ear and leans in. I expect him to say something, anything, especially when I lean into him, holding onto his hips for support.
“Breathe, Hailey,” he says quietly, like it’s an order meant only for me. “You’re safe with me.”
