Slow It Down

Part 4 •REWRITTEN•

I remained leaned against the upstairs railing, my drink forgotten, watching as she continued to dance with Natalie. Her movements were stiff at first, like she wasn't used to being in a place like this. But now, she was starting to relax, her hips swaying more freely, her laughter coming easier.

She finished her drink within a few gulps, slightly losing balance despite me noticing she had taken off her heels.

Double fuck.

That was new. The Lilah I knew didn't drink.

I tried telling myself it wasn't my business. That I didn't give a shit. But when a tall, dirty blonde haired guy approached her, something dark curled in my chest. I clenched my jaw as he reached for her shoulder, leaning in close. Lilah, still smiling, didn't pull away. She didn't notice the way his eyes darkened slightly, the way his stance shifted subtly to block her from the crowd.

The guy was smooth, I'd give him that. The fake friendly smile, the casual body language—it was all a fucking act. I knew that look. I had used that same look before. I recognized the tactic. The "play-it-cool" move. The easy smile, the pretend-innocence that came with being a nice guy who just wanted to talk. I knew because I had done it before. Back when I still gave a fuck about charming women instead of getting straight to the point.

Act casual. Pretend to be harmless. Wait until they trust you just enough to get them alone.

It made me feel fucking sick watching it happen.

I waited for Lilah to pull away. For her to say no. But she didn't push him away. Instead, she smiled. The dark feeling swirling in my chest was building by the second, close to exploding into blind anger.

Not your problem, Jackson. Not your problem.

I narrowed my eyes, intently watching her body language, looking for any reason to think she wouldn't give him the chance. She wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, she seemed at ease.

My jaw tightened, waiting for her to see through the bullshit, to push the guy off. She wouldn't actually go for that, right? She wasn't that fucking naïve anymore, right? But then she laughed at something he said, and I felt irritation sink its teeth into me.

She was too trusting. Still. After all these years.

Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe she wasn't that same naïve, easy-to-manipulate girl anymore.

I clenched my hand, my relaxed grip on the railing tightening. I had to stop watching. I had to let it go. Still, I couldn't move. I stood there, muscles locked, gripping my water bottle like I wanted to crush it. But then he "accidentally" spilled his drink on her, and I felt my fingers twitch. That wasn't a fucking accident. My stomach dropped, and I knew exactly what the next move was supposed to be. Get her isolated. Offer to help clean her up. Take her somewhere away from people.

Motherfucker.

And that was it.

I took a step forward before I could think. I was going down there. I was going to tell this piece of shit to back the hell off and—

Lilah walked away.

She shook her head, turned toward her friend, didn't give the guy a second glance, and disappeared into the crowd. I felt something settle in my chest. I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders to release the tension there. She was fine. She didn't need me.

The breath I didn't know I was holding was released from my lungs. I had no fucking clue why I felt relieved, but I did. And that pissed me off even more.

I was done with this. I had already let myself get distracted too much tonight, and I had my own shit to deal with. Lilah wasn't my responsibility. I didn't owe her anything. I should have walked away the moment I saw her. I ran a hand down my face, finally pushing off the railing. I needed a fucking drink. Hell, I needed to get the fuck away from here. Now.