I’m about halfway to her when Bee turns around and shoves him. Mohawk stumbles backward, but she doesn’t stop, she keeps going at him, screaming something as she does.

“Settle the fuck down, you crazy bitch. I was only dancing,” Mohawk yells.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me unless I say you can.” When she tries to leap at him again, I grab her around the waist. She’s twisting and fighting the whole time but I stay between her and him.

One of the bouncers on shift grabs Mohawk.

“She told you once. Stay the fuck away from her,” I grit out at him as I stand between them. Bee’s trying to get around me. Everyone’s yelling. When I turn to look at her, she’s shut down again, nothing but fire in her eyes.

“Don’t want the bitch anyway.” The asshole laughs.

I don’t hold back this time; letting my fist fly forward, I hit him in the face. He drops to the ground as Bee tries to go for him again, but I grab her waist. She doesn’t stop trying to get free.

When she almost slips out of my arms, I squeeze tighter, hefting her over my shoulder like a goddamned caveman or something, her fists coming down on my back the whole way out of the club.

Chapter Nine ~Bee~

I’m not the type of girl to make a scene. I don’t freak out for no reason, and I definitely don’t get thrown over a guy’s shoulder because I went postal on someone in a club.

Yeah, I’m on edge because of the call from Mom and maybe a little bit because of Maddox, too, but that’s not what this is about. The second he put his arms around me from behind, I had this strange flashback. A weird almost déjà vu of being grabbed. It was familiar, too, and a part of me wants to dip back into that flash from my mind and explore what it was.

The other part is pissed it was there in the first place.

“Let me go!” I shove at Maddox, trying to get out of his arms. A chilly blast of night air hits me as he steps outside.

Maddox doesn’t listen but walks around the corner until we’re a good distance from Lunar. When he sets me down, I realize we’re next to his bike.

“What the hell was that?” My voice cracks as I scream at him.

His voice is more measured but equally as angry as mine. “That was me saving your ass. By the way, I’m not the hero type. I’ve dealt with enough shit in my life.”

His words make my thoughts stumble slightly. He did save my ass, even if it was from me making too big a fool of myself. This strange urge rumbles through me, to ask him what he’s dealt with, why he’s so adamant not to be a savior; then I realize it’s not like I need that from him anyway.

“And I don’t need a guy on a white horse to save me. I’m drunk. He grabbed me—”

“He deserved what he got for putting his hands on you. Just don’t give me hell for pulling you out of a bad situation.”

I don’t call him on the fact that he pretty much admitted that, regardless, he would have tried to be the hero tonight. I can see that in him. I didn’t realize it until right now, but Maddox is that guy who can’t stop himself from doing the right thing, even when it goes against who he thinks he needs to be.

Why?

“Thanks. I…” I let my words trail off there. Even if I was the type to tell him everything on my mind, I’m not sure what I would say. That it made me wonder if I was ever grabbed like that before. Or that it made little flashes of something pass through my mind that I don’t understand. Not going to happen.

“I know you’ve already done your hero duty for tonight, but I need a ride home. I don’t think I can drive. Do you mind?”

A slow grin slides across Maddox’s face before disappearing. “Don’t have another helmet. It’s a bummer because that could have been fun.”

“Stop being a sexy flirt. You’re too angry for that,” I tease him. This time he doesn’t laugh or smile but kind of squints his eyes as though he’s working something out in his head. I don’t want it to be me.

“I can call a cab. People won’t mess with my car here, will they?”

“You’re drunk. You’re not taking a cab home by yourself. Give me your keys and I’ll drive you.”

I shake my head. “I can handle a cab, and that leaves your bike here.”

My breath hitches when Maddox steps so close to me I smell his masculine, spicy scent. He reaches for me as I say, “And I’m not that drunk.” Though I kind of am.

When his fingers push into the pocket of my jean skirt, I try to step back. It gives him enough time to grab my keys and pull them out. “I’m not asking what you think I am either. Although I’m sure you wish I was.”

“Shut up, Scratch.” I’m trying to be pissy at him, but the smile on my face is ruining it.

And he’s ruining me because I’m supposed to be annoyed by him right now. It’s the tequila, I tell myself. He doesn’t give me much time to think about it, because Maddox is already walking toward my car. And I’m following him.

In the car, I’m thinking about the fact that he grabbed my keys, and I let him.

“Where do you live?” he asks, his voice rough.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, instead of replying. He’s a struggle to figure out, and I’m not sure if I want to or not. I’m already feeling comfortable with him, and that’s not what I’m looking for.

“Okay, I’ll bring you back to Masquerade, then.”

A foreign feeling of respect for him hits me. I don’t mean that I didn’t respect him before. It’s just not something I let myself think about often. But here I am, thinking about it, about Maddox. There’s no doubt in my mind that he will take me back to Masquerade, and even though I do stay there sometimes, I’m not thinking it’s a good idea tonight. Not with the scent and memories of Maddox and I still so fresh.

“Go left on Canopy. It’s a few streets up.”

I cross my arms, not sure if I’m suddenly annoyed at Maddox, myself, or both of us.

My house is only about a ten-minute drive from Lunar, so it doesn’t take us long to get there. It’s on the tip of my tongue to again ask Maddox why he’s doing this, but he didn’t answer the first time and I don’t beg.

If he wants to play the quiet martyr while denying he’s doing it, that’s his business.

Still I can’t stop myself from wondering about him. Wondering what he hides. He doesn’t pretend, even though it’s obvious there’s more to him than he lets come to the surface. Maddox is a contradiction. He’s so closed off in some ways, yet in others he is who he is and he doesn’t disguise himself as anyone else… Like me? Or how I want to be?

“Shit. You passed it. I’m a few streets back.”

“I don’t know where you live. I didn’t pass it. You did.” That’s all he says before turning around and heading back the other way.

I point to my house and Maddox pulls into my driveway. He kills the engine and sets my keys in my lap.

“You can stay,” I tell him without thinking about it. “You can have my spare room and I’ll take you back to your bike in the morning.”

“What’s your address?”

“It’s rude to ignore people or not acknowledge when they offer you something.” The words make my chest tight. They’re true, but they don’t sound like me. They sound like my mom. It’s a scary thought. Not because there’s anything wrong with her. Someone would be lucky to be like her. I’m just not.

Maddox sighs. “I’m not staying here and you know why. You don’t want me to and I know I shouldn’t.”

The back of the seat catches my head when I drop it back. He’s right. We both know what will happen if he stays, and we’ve both already broken our rule with each other once. The second time we slept together never should have happened, so boundaries are a must right now.