I remind myself she’s drunk. That she doesn’t understand what she’s saying. That she’s grieving and confused.
It doesn’t help.
“Is that so?” My voice comes out quieter than I intend. Too calm.
She looks around, trying to find him, but she won’t. His brother and father dragged him out the moment I arrived. And I made sure he understood what would happen if he ever came near her again.
I step closer, lowering my voice. “Tell me,cara, what else did you have planned? Were you going to seduce him in my house while I was away?”
Her chin tilts up, defiant even in her haze.
“Maybe.” She sways slightly. “You weren’t there, so why would it have mattered?”
Something twists deep in my chest. Anger. Guilt. Something darker I don’t want to name.
“Did you miss me?” I ask, the words escaping before I can stop them.
She blinks slowly, then leans forward so close that I can feel the warmth of her breath as she inhales against my jacket.
“Mmm. I missed this smell,” she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper.
Her eyes lift to mine, soft and unfocused, and I know I should step back. I should end this.
But I don’t.
I lower my head until our noses brush, my breath tangling with hers. “Did you?”
“Yeah.” Her voice trembles. “You should kiss me.”
“Is that so?”
She nods, her mouth inches from mine. “Yeah.”
“And why should I do that?”
“So I can see.”
“See what?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she rises on unsteady toes and presses her lips to mine, soft and hesitant, tasting faintly of smoke and cheap whiskey. The contact lasts only a second. But it’s enough to undo every ounce of control I’ve built.
For one heartbeat, I forget where we are.
The noise, the strobe lights, the stench of sweat and cheap liquor all blurs into nothing.
There’s only her.
When she sways, I catch her before she falls. Her body fits against mine as if it’s supposed to be there. Her breath is warm against my throat.
“Elizabeth,” I whisper, but it comes out rougher than I mean it to. “Enough.”
She smiles faintly, lost somewhere between exhaustion and intoxication, and the sight guts me. She has no idea what kind of fire she’s playing with.
I scoop her up before she can argue. She makes a small sound of protest but curls into me, her head falling against my chest. The crowd parts without a word. Even drunk, these people recognize danger when they see it.
Outside, the cold night hits like a slap. Snowflakes drift down, catching in her hair, melting against my jacket. I breathe deep, trying to steady myself, but all I smell is her—smoke, sugar, and something that’s become too familiar.
Cesaro’s waiting by the car, jaw tight, eyes hard. He opens the back door without a word.
