“I—” My voice cracks and I clear it. “Nathan was just leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk,” Nathan says, reaching for my arm.
He doesn’t make contact.
Luke’s hand shoots out, gripping Nathan’s wrist and stopping him mid-reach. “She asked you to leave.”
“This is between me and my girlfriend—”
“Ex-girlfriend,” I correct, my voice shaking now. Not from fear, but from the sudden rush of emotion—relief, gratitude, and something else I don’t want to name.
“Let go of me,” Nathan says, trying to pull free.
Luke releases him, but doesn’t step back. Instead, he steps in front of me, blocking me, protectingme. “Leave. Now.”
Nathan looks between us, and I see the moment he realizes he’s lost. Whatever chance he thought he had, it’s gone. His face flushes with anger and embarrassment.
“This is ridiculous. Molly, are you seriously going to—”
“Get thefuckout.” Luke’s voice is low, controlled, but there’s an edge to it that makes even me take a step back. The entire room has gone quiet. Everyone’s watching now.
Nathan opens his mouth to respond and Luke moves.
It’s one punch. Clean, precise, and devastating.
Nathan goes down like a sack of potatoes, clutching his nose as blood seeps through his shaking fingers. The room erupts in gasps and a few scattered cheers (mostly from Brent, who showed up with Mitch).
“Oh my god,” I breathe.
Danny appears with napkins and an ice pack, already in full damage control mode, but his expression is more satisfied than concerned. “All right, folks, show’s over! Nathan, you’re banned from the building and any future events. Let’s get you cleaned up and on your way.”
Luke turns to me, his chest heaving slightly, and for the first time since he arrived, he appears…uncertain. “Are you okay?”
I should say yes. I should thank him and laugh it off and pretend my heart isn’t racing for an entirely different reason now. Instead, I hear myself say, “Can you get me out of here?”
His eyes search mine. “You sure?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Without a word, Luke bends down and—before I can process what’s happening—sweeps me up and into his arms like I weigh nothing at all. One arm under my knees, the other supporting my back, he carries me bridal style with sure steps.
“Luke!” I gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders.
“You said get you out of here.” His voice is rough near my ear as he turns us toward the door.
The room erupts again, this time in whistles and applause. I catch Sophie’s wide eyes over Luke’s shoulder, Danny grinninglike he’s just won the lottery, and hear Brent yell something that’s probably inappropriate.
But I don’t care.
Because Luke is carrying me out of the party, down the hallway, and for the first time all day—maybe for the first time in months—I feel like I can breathe.
“Where to?” he asks as we reach the elevator.
“My apartment,” I whisper. “Please.”
He nods once, hitting the button with his elbow since his hands are currently occupied with holding me. The elevator arrives—perfectly functional now, naturally—and we step inside.
Neither of us says anything as it climbs to the fourth floor. I’m hyperaware of everywhere we’re touching. His arms solid and warm beneath me, the way I’m pressed against his chest, the steady thud of his heartbeat.
