JUNIPER'S POV:
We sway to the music, our bodies moving in time with the beat. The bass thuds through the club, but it feels far away now, muted by the alcohol clouding my mind. By the time Rhea and I collapse on the couch, I'm beyond tipsy. Rhea digs into her purse as her phone buzzes, her fingers fumbling over the zipper. Then she stops, giving off a sigh.
"Why did I even bother?" She questions as the phone stops ringing.
"Probably my mum reminding us to show up tomorrow on time," she says, rolling her eyes. I chuckle, leaning my head back against the couch.
"That's not happening. No way." My words come out sluggishly, but I don't care. Tomorrow feels like another lifetime, I say to myself, shutting my eyes.
"Rhea," a familiar voice cuts through the haze, and I blink up to see Lyon standing over us, his phone in his hand.
His expression shifts between amusement and disapproval. Rhea and I exchange a look before bursting into laughter.
Lyon sighs, running a hand down his face.
"God, you two are a mess." He comments, causing us to giggle more.
"Let's go. Both of you. Now." Rhea clings to the edge of the table as she struggles to stand, and I make an attempt too, only for my legs to give out and drop me right back onto the couch.
I look at Lyon with a smug smile.
"Juniper," Lyon groans, stepping closer and reaching out to haul me up. His hand grabs mine firmly, and he pulls, steadying me with my arm around his neck.
Rhea wraps herself around his side, trying to kiss his neck, mumbling something incoherent into his shoulder. He grips her firmly, then he mutters, "Not here, Rhea."
"Ooh, somebody is about to get luckkyy."
Lyon lets out his frustration with a groan.
"Work with me, Juniper," he says as he helps us to the exit.
The cool night air greets us, biting against my skin. Lyon manages to get us to the car. Skillfully, he opens the back seat for me, then I grip the car's roof for support as I climb into the back seat, collapsing with a sigh. My eyes shut as I curl up. He gets Rhea into the front sit, before he drives off.
The car jerks to a stop, and I blink awake, Lyon's voice calling to me from the front seat. "We're here," he says, his tone firm but quiet.
Groggily, I sit up, looking out the window to see my apartment. My hands fumble for the door handle, but Lyon beats me to it, stepping out and opening the door for me. I mutter a soft, "Thanks," as I slide out, gripping my heels in one hand.
The pavement is cold beneath my bare feet, grounding me just a little.
"You sure you're good?" Lyon asks. I wave him off.
"Fine. I'm literally at my front door. What could happen?"
"Bye, bitch," Rhea's words slur slightly as she waves from the front seat, and I let out a small laugh as Lyon shuts the car door and climbs back in. The car pulls away, its taillights vanishing into the darkness.
I stand there for a moment, watching the dark night for no particular reason.
As I turn toward my door, a flicker of movement catches my eye. A shadow, long and angular, stretches across the pavement just beyond the streetlamp's glow. My stomach tightens, a strange unease creeping over me.
"Just drunk," I whisper to myself, shaking my head as I fumble with my keys. I glance over my shoulder, but the street appears empty now. Convincing myself I'm imagining things, I hurry up the stairs, the sound of my footsteps loud in the stillness.
At my door, my hands shake as I shove the key into the lock, twisting it frantically. The second it clicks, I push it, rushing inside, and slamming the door behind me. Then I lean against it with my breath coming out in a shaky exhale.
"You're fine. No one's there. Just drunk." I mutter.
I toss my heels to the side and step further into the apartment, reaching for the light switch, and ones I click it, a scream escapes my lips before I can stop it.
"Christ, Hiram!" I gasp, clutching a hand to my chest as I watch Hiram, who is lying on my couch.
My heart pounds as I try to catch my breath. Hiram doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink. He gets up, examining me for a moment.
"You're drunk," he says, his tone flat.
"No kidding," I snap, trying to steady my voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Waiting."
Waiting for what?"
"For you." He replies, then he walks towards me.
The tension in the room thickens as he closes in on me.
"Did you have your fun?" he growls in a raspy voice that barely cuts through the haze in my head. "While you were out, ignoring my texts, acting like I don't exist?" He continues quizzing me like I'm in some debate.
I blink at him, his words sluggishly registering in my alcohol-addled mind. My lips twitch into a lazy smile as I stare at his hot lips as they move. They are the only things that make sense to me at the moment.
"Texts?" The words leave my mouth as I step closer to him, the space between us vanishing.
His hands grip my shoulders when he notices the smug smile on my lips. His grip forces me to meet his stormy eyes, which grow sexier with each second.
"Yes, texts," he snaps, trying to ground me to the situation at hand.
"The ones I sent while I sat here wondering where the hell you were. Wondering if you were safe. Wondering why the fuck I even bother when you don't care!"
A laugh bubbles up from my throat, soft and uncontrolled, escaping before I can catch it. It's enough to make his jaw clench, which causes his grip on my shoulders to tighten for a moment. A soft moan escapes my lips, causing him to loosen his grip before he steps back.
"This is useless," he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. His voice softens, but the frustration is clear. "You're drunk, and you won't even remember a damn thing I say in the morning. So what is the point of even having this conversation with you?"
I do not say a word, which earns a scoff from his lips. "You should probably get some sleep, and I'll get going," he says, attempting to walk away, but I reach for his hand, and he stops.
"But you'll remember this," I murmur. My hand trails down his chest, grazing the crisp lines of his shirt before slipping lower. My fingers barely brush over the hard outline beneath his pants when his hand shoots out, capturing mine in a firm grip.
"Juniper, stop!" His voice comes out a bit harsh, but it does nothing to stop what I want to happen.
His restraint only emboldens me. I smirk, my other hand sliding up to clutch his collar. I pull him down with all my strength, his frame bending toward me with his lips just inches from my ear.
"You're going to deny your girlfriend?" I whisper in a low, taunting voice, brushing my lips against his ear. "Because she's drunk?"
His breath hitches, and his free hand twitches at his side. His silence only fuels me further.
"I know you're angry," I continue, letting my lips graze his jaw. "So go ahead. Fuck away your anger. Or don't. The choice is yours, but I know you want to."
I release his collar and step back as if I'm done with him. Then I count down in my mind how long it will take, but before I can take a step, his hand wraps around my wrist, yanking me back with a force that sends me spinning into the wall.
I gasp as my back presses into the cool surface, his body pinning mine, and his size dwarfing me. His right hand holds mine above my head, the other gripping my hip with a strength that sends heat rushing through me. His eyes burn into mine, wild and stormy, his chest rising and falling like a man on the edge of losing control.