“I’m not adog.”
But Landon ignores both of us, already striding purposefully to the front door. With no other choice, Eli and I crouch in the doorway of the kitchen, huddling just out of sight but listening closely. When I hear the door swing open, I peek around the corner, watching Christian’s face screw up in confusion when he sees who’s standing in my place.
“Blair? What are you doing here?” he asks slowly.
“This is my house,” Landon says, his voice even.
Christian laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks around. “Well, shit. I must have the wrong address.”
“You don’t have the wrong address,” Landon sneers, like the very thought is idiotic. “Violet isn’t coming, and if you threaten her again, we’ll have a serious problem.”
It’s the first time he’s ever said my name, and it sends a weird thrill down my spine. I don’t want to say I like the way my name sounds in his deep voice, but I don’t exactly hate it. Which is stupid. Very stupid.
What is wrong with me?
“Woah, hang on, man.” Christian gives a nervous laugh, holding out his hands. “There must be some kind of misunderstanding here. I never threatened her.”
“Violet says otherwise,” Landon says in a level voice that would intimidate most people. Not Christian, apparently. Instead of backing down, he steps forward, chest puffed out and eyebrows pinched. For a second, I worry we’re about to witness an actual fight.
“Then she’s a liar,” he snaps. “I would never do something like that.” He shifts to the side, trying to see around Landon’s broad shoulders. “Is she there? Let me just talk to her for a second.”
Landon leans to the left to block Christian’s view of the inside of the house. “You need to leave.”
Christian barks out a laugh. “Dude, she’s a fucking liar! She’s been throwing herself at me for weeks.”
I bristle at the accusation. “That is so not true,” I whisper to Eli, who scowls in response.
“It was the least I could do to take her out,” Christian continues. “It’s not like she’s hard on the eyes, if you know what I mean.” He frowns, glancing up at the house. “Why is she staying here, anyway? Seems weird.”
“None of your business,” says Landon.
“You hitting that, Blair? Is that why you won’t let her out to play?”
Landon ignores his question. “It’s time for you to leave.”
“Let me speak to her first.”
“You think I’d let you speak to her after you called her a liar and a whore in the same breath? Get the fuck out of here, McCoy.” Before he can even respond, Landon Blair slams the door in Christian McCoy’s stupid, stuck-up face, and I have to say, the whole door-slamming thing is pretty satisfying to witness when it’s not me on the other side.
Eli and I straighten from where we’re crouched in the doorway and step out into full view. “I can’t believe you did that,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. My blood’s rushing in my ears, adrenaline pumping, and I shift on my feet, feeling like I could run a marathon.
Landon turns toward us, eyes narrowing in on me as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe you put yourself in that situation,” he says.
My brows pull together in confusion. “What?”
Landon takes a step forward. “First, he wants dinner. Then what? What if he wants sex? How long were you going to let it go on?”
My mouth drops open, and I fumble for a response. Now my blood’s rushing for an entirely different reason. “What else was I supposed to do?”
“Tell him no. Stand up for yourself, for God’s sake. Have some self-respect.”
“Woah, Landon,” scolds Eli, throwing up his hand. “Not cool, man.”
“I have self-respect,” I say, embarrassed when my voice shakes.
Landon snorts. “Sure.”
“I have self-respect, Landon,” I repeat, this time steadier. “But if I’d told him no, he would have gotten me fired.”
