“That’s enough!” an angry, unforgiving voice yells from behind me.

Blake’s eyes are something so fierce I can’t hold them. It’s too much but yet it’s exactly what I wanted.

“She’s with me.” The helpless man is now just a pawn standing in front of an angry king.

Blake sidles up to him, holding on to the stranger’s bicep so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Let. Go. Now. Asshole.”

“And, what are you going to do if I don’t?”

The grin on Blake’s face is evil. “Trust me . . . you don’t want to know.”

“She isn’t worth it anyway,” the guy says as he lets go of me.

Something immediately washes over Blake’s face, and he pulls his arm back and punches the guy. The whole scene flashes in front of me like lightning. My hand in Blake’s. Him pulling me off the dance floor. My heels click as I try to keep up with him. My head spins from shock and alcohol.

He pulls me into a dark corner and presses me against the wall, his knee wedged between my legs. “Tease Blake time is over. Are you ready to get the fuck out of here?”

“Do you want me to look at your hand?” I watch him flex it over and over again between us.

“No.” He shakes his head. “That dickhead was soft.”

I pull my lower lip between my teeth. I’m a novice at seduction . . . it’s the best I can do. “Dance with me.” Twice in one night. Good job, Lila.

He kisses the corner of my lips, trailing down my neck. His mouth is the equivalent of silk against my skin . . . it’s almost enough to convince me to skip all the nonsense and follow him wherever he leads.

“Blake,” I say, pushing against his chest. “Dance.”

He’s stronger than me—a giant next to my small five foot three frame. He pins my arms above my head with one hand and trails the back of the other along my side. “We’re going home. Now.”

I’d argue if I could speak, but I can’t. His thumb brushes the underside of my breast as his lips crash into mine. I never realize how much I like him, what he does to me, until we’re like this. There’s no denying this.

He grins. “What’s it going to be, Lila?”

Holy hell. I can’t say no to that gorgeous face. “Okay. Let me tell my friends.”

He comes at me like he’s going to kiss me again but stops just short. “Hurry.”

As soon as he gives me enough space, I all but run away from him in search of Reece and Dana. I could just text them. They’d understand. Our booth is empty so I scan the dance floor looking for the two polar opposites. Nothing. Ready to give up, I head to the bar to settle my tab, spotting them taking shots at the end of the bar. This isn’t going to be good.

“I’m leaving,” I announce, sliding between them.

Reece stumbles into the guy next to her when she sees me. “Lila, we’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Not really,” Dana chimes in. “Blake wasn’t going to take his eyes off you so we knew you were in good hands. He has good hands, doesn’t he, Lila?”

Before I can reply, Blake comes to stand behind me, curving his hand around the back of my neck. “How are you guys getting home?”

Reece chuckles, leaning her weight against the bar. “The same way I got here. I think I took the train, or maybe a cab. Do you remember, Lila?”

I’m about to set her straight when Blake speaks up. “What’s your address?”

“Umm. It’s a tall building with bricks. By the way, you better not hurt my friend here, or I’m coming after you. She’s amazing and beautiful and smart. You should be doing more than just fucking her brains out.”

I wince, taken aback by my new friend’s drunken threat. It’s bold and full of truth I’m not brave enough to speak.

Blake curses under his breath. He looks down at me, half irritated, half troubled. “I’m going to run outside and get a cab. We need to make sure these two get home before we do.”

I’m a little shocked by his gesture but can’t place why. Blake was minutes away from hitting the homerun he came to score, but that’s going to have to wait. Strange for a guy who’s self-absorbed most of the time, but I like knowing there’s a caring side to him. “Okay.”

He squeezes my shoulder and walks away, his figure quickly being swallowed by the crowd. It takes a minute to soak in, to see him as more than the god of my desires.

“Where’s he going? Do you think I made him mad?” Reece asks.

“He’s getting us a cab. Let’s pay up so we can get out of here.”

I motion for the bartender, letting him know we’re ready for the bill. While we wait, I practically pour a glass of water down Reece’s throat in an attempt to dilute the alcohol. Not wanting to hang around, I settle the whole bill and pull my friends away from the bar.

Luckily, Dana can still walk a straight line. That much cannot be said about Reece who struggles to keep herself upright. She’s so going to kill me when she sees me at work tomorrow . . . if she makes it.

Blake spots us coming out the door and comes over to help with Reece. He makes sure we’re all safely tucked inside and slides into the passenger seat, giving the driver instructions on which address to go to first.

Reece’s head falls against my shoulder as the car starts down the city streets. It’s quiet except for the occasional voices coming over the cabbie’s radio. Dana lives closest so we drop her off first, watching her disappear behind her door. Next is Reece.

“Wait here,” Blake instructs our driver.

He points to the meter that steadily climbs with every minute we spend in here, but Blake doesn’t respond. Something tells me this isn’t a first for him. He’s too good at it.

We help Reece out and hold onto her until we’re standing in front of the door. “Can I have your key?” Blake asks, holding his hand out.

She unwraps her arm from Blake’s, clumsily digging through her purse. It’s painful to watch this bright, sweet girl struggle to do something so simple. I make a mental note not to do it to her again.

“Here,” I say, reaching for her purse. “Let me help you.” A few quick shuffles and I have her key chain between my fingers. I hand them over to Blake who makes quick work of the door.

“What apartment?” he asks.

I watch her struggle, going from a drunken awake state to half asleep. “Last door to the right,” she mumbles. Thank God it’s the first floor.

We get her inside and carefully tuck her into her bed before retreating back to the waiting cab. Blake hasn’t said much, and my liquid courage is dissipating. He follows me into the backseat, giving the driver the address for his last stop.

Distance remains between us. His elbow rests against the door, his fingers running along his strong jaw as he stares out at the city lights. He doesn’t talk. He doesn’t look. That spark isn’t burning as brightly, but that’s what always happens when I think too much. What changed in the little bit since we left the bar?

He does this all the time, hot and cold, cold and hot. It makes it harder and harder to trust him, to know that he has the best of intentions with my heart. But then again, my heart was never supposed to get involved in this.

“You okay?” he finally asks when we pull up in front of our building.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs. “Did you have a little too much to drink?”

“Maybe, but it’s wearing off now.” Everything is as clear as it should be. Besides, I don’t think this much when I’m drunk.

Blake hands the driver enough cash for the whole ride plus tip and climbs out, holding the door open for me. He walks with me, but we don’t touch. The chilly night suddenly feels a lot colder.

He follows me up the stairs and unlocks our door before I get a chance. He holds it open then makes sure it’s locked again when we’re both inside.

I want the other Blake back—the one who’d set me on the counter and fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow. The one who’d touch me in ways that would make me quit thinking again.