I freeze.
I feel it before I see it. Kazimir shifts beside me, his grip suddenly tightening while he simultaneously angles his body protectively between me and the man. But he doesn’t say a word.
His hand closes around mine, fingers locking with decisive force. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s pulling me away from the crowd and toward a hallway that leads to the restrooms. There’s an alcove where cleaning supplies are kept; shadowed and inconspicuous. He crowds me in there, his big body pressed against mine, all hard heat.
“Kaz—” I start, my voice pitched low and urgent.
“Don’t move.” There’s no room for argument in his tone.
The party is only yards, and I can hear people laughing and chatting. The flash of bulbs lights up Kaz’s face in sharp angles. He’s like a statue. What is he waiting for?
Then someone waltzes down the hallway. A woman, already fixing her hair with a plastered-on smile sinking to exhaustion. She sashays easily into the restroom.
Kaz steps away for a moment, leaning to look back out into the main room. Then his chin dips with approval. He steps back in, slow and calm, his arms caging either side of my face—his eyes locked onto my lips.
Is he going to kiss me?
No.
He said no touching.
Before I can overthink anything, someone else stumbles into the hallway humming and chuckling. It’s the guy; the one who just insulted me,us,moments ago. We hear the sound of thedoor to the men’s room open, then close. Kazimir breaks his rule, which apparently doesn’t come into play in public, and takes my hand, leading me to the restroom.
My heart is pounding. Adrenaline buzzes under my skin, and I tug back, ready to demand an explanation.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Teaching,” he replies calmly.
The door opens again and we step inside. It feels wrong to be in here where urinals line the walls. The man is distracted unzipping his pants, but Kaz moves fast, faster than I expected. His arm locks around the man’s throat from behind, dragging him back before he can react.
A sharp, involuntary gasp escapes from me, and my hand flies to cover my mouth. Kaz presses him back against the tiled wall, a slim blade flashing into view, the point settling just beneath the man’s jaw.
“You will apologize,” Kaz says. His voice is soft and almost gentle. “And you will remember exactly why.”
The man’s bravado evaporates, and his hands shake as he drops to his knees. Blood wells at his jawline where the knife caught. Whether it was by accident or on purpose, I don’t know, but knowing Kaz…
Now, in this empty room with only a little more than a foot separating us, I can smell alcohol. This guy got the party started early. It must be what made him so insolent. He opens his mouth, looks up at me, and starts to say “I’m?—”
“Don’t fucking look at her.”
The knife flashes, and the man cries out. His hand clamps over the back of his neck, where blood slides down into the collar of his shirt. He’s hyperventilating, but he doesn’t look up again. “S—sorry,” he chokes out, fingers slipping in his own blood, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You look beautiful?—”
“Don’t comment on how she looks.”
There’s a dull thud, and I watch with wide eyes as Kaz’s boot slams into the side of the man’s head. A crack as he hits the floor, his eyes going dull and blood trickling onto the tiles.
I should feel sick. I should be horrified.
Instead, something dark and electric coils low in my belly.
Kaz straightens, and tucks the knife away as if this were nothing more than a correction. He then turns to me, but his expression is unreadable. He takes my hand again, brushing his thumb just once, but deliberately over my pulse point and leads me back out into the noise and light.
The cameras find us immediately.
His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. His hand clutches possessively over my hip as the flashes go off. When he kisses me, it’s not tentative or polite.
It’s claiming and controlled and far too intimate for something that’s supposed to be pretend. It’s a secret. A secret between the two of us. It’s an acknowledgement that back there is a body and he’d do it again if he had to. If he wanted to.
