When I'm with You (Hope Town #3)(29)

She narrows her eyes and stops dancing to stand up on her toes and get in my fucking face.

“He sure does and I’ll have you know that he will be here later.”

I drop my head back and look up at the ceiling. I should have known they wouldn’t stay away. It’s not that I don’t want them here, I do, but not if I have to look out for her while he’s not here.

“Plus, we’re celebrating,” she yells before dropping down on her impossibly tall heels and dancing again.

“Celebrating what?”

Her smile goes all wonky and shit. She looks downright fucking evil.

“Ember’s birthday, big brother,” she tells me with a pat against my chest before spinning around and vanishing through the thick crowd.

Ember’s birthday.

And then it hits me.

Ember’s twenty-first birthday.

Fucking shit.

And if I know my sister and her gang of misfits, she’s up to something a lot bigger than just celebrating. Of all the places they could have ended up tonight, they picked my fucking club knowing damn well that things between Ember and me are one giant mess. Dani isn’t stupid, and since she was the first person I ran into after my chat with Locke the other night, she knows exactly what’s going on between us.

With a single-minded determination, I start to scan the room for Dani, Ember, or any of the other girls that I’m sure are tagging along for the showdown they’re hoping for.

Each pass my eyes makes around the room just coils the tension in my gut tighter until I’m determined to find them and kick them out. If I were smart, I would find Shane and make him take care of it … but clearly, I’m not of sound mind because the second my eyes lock on Ember, I know the last thing I’m going to do is let her walk away from me again.

I feel my cock jump when I see past the group dancing between where I’m standing and she is laughing with the girls around one of the tables just off the dance floor. Then I get my first good look when the definition of living sin meets my eyes.

“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe out in a rush of words, feeling like I’ve just been punched in the stomach.

The possessiveness that fires through my body at the vision before me is nothing like I’ve ever felt before. The anger that anyone else in this room is free to look at her slams into my body with a force so strong I almost reach out to steady my footing … almost.

My feet are moving just as rapidly as my racing heart as I move toward her. Dani, facing my direction, drops her jaw as her eyes widen. I see Stella roll her eyes in a bored way before giving Maddi a nudge and nod in my direction. I don’t look at Ember’s sister long, but I don’t for a second miss the small smile that hits her face when she sees me fuming behind Ember. I pay no attention to the rest of the girls in their group but reach out to spin the little devil in front of me around gently.

She teeters on her feet, and I glance down with a frown. Each bare inch of her tan legs has me clenching my jaw, but when I see the tall-as-fuck heels on her dainty feet, whatever blood I had left in my brain blasts to my cock. I groan when my eyes travel back up to a dress that shouldn’t be allowed past the bedroom as my balls grow painfully tight.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl.

Fucking growl. Like a goddamn bear.

She doesn’t respond, but she also does a shit job at hiding the hurt that flashes in her eyes.

Shit.

“Don’t be a jerk,” I hear my sister yell.

I lift my gaze and narrow them on her. “You had better watch it before your nose is in the corner for a much-needed time the fuck out, Danielle Cage.”

She rolls her eyes, and I make a mental note to deal with her later, looking back down into Ember’s pissed face.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I feel regret slamming into me. Fuck yeah, she should be here, my mind keeps screaming over and over. “You don’t belong here,” I continue to speak. I can’t stop the words coming out of my mouth, and I know the second my heart starts to pound at an unnatural speed that I’m fucking up major here.

“You’re a son of a Bieber’s biscuit!” I hear a drunken screech from my side and look over to see Ember’s best friend, Nikki, reach out to poke me. “Son of a Backstreet Boy,” she oddly screams next and brings her offending finger to her chest to cradle it as her brow furrows in pain.

Weird girl, that one.

I take a deep breath to fill my chest with the smoky, raw air around me, before doing what I should have done in the first place. I bend, and before Ember can react, she is over my shoulder and I’m stalking back to the stairs that will lead to my office. My hand splays out against her backside so that the short-as-shit dress she’s wearing doesn’t give a view to the room that should be for my eyes only.