Chapter 4 A SWEET NIGHTMARE
I stood a little distance from the bar, staring at the figure still lying motionless on the table.
I couldn't believe I came back for her-yet I couldn't bring myself to go inside.
So, I just stood there, watching over her like some silent guardian, waiting until she sobered up enough to get herself home.
Just when I thought that was all I needed to do, I saw two men approach her and casually take a seat at the table.
Who the hell are they?
The one sitting closest leaned down and whispered something in her ear.
Whatever he said seemed to rouse her; she pushed herself forward slightly, her head dropping low, her hair tumbling like a curtain over her face.
Then they started searching her-patting down her pockets, rummaging through her belongings.
That was all it took.
Before I even realised it, I was storming back into that bar, anger boiling just beneath my skin.
But as I reached the table, I realised-they weren't men.
Just teenagers.
Stupid, reckless kids too busy robbing her to notice I was standing right there.
I cleared my throat.
They both froze. Eyes wide, filled with fear.
"Drop it," I growled. "Every single thing you took from her."
No hesitation.
They dropped her cellphone and a few small items before bolting out of the bar like scared rabbits.
I exhaled sharply, frustration tightening in my chest.
Sitting down opposite her, I stared for a moment before tapping the table, trying to rouse her.
How the hell could someone fall asleep like this-head hanging midair in the most absurd, dramatic way?
It took a few tries, but eventually she lifted her head, a dazed smile tugging at her lips.
"You really need to snap out of it," I muttered. "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up? Any relatives? Friends?"
The smile vanished. Her expression turned blank.
"Nah. I don't have friends. And I'm the last person my parents want to get a call from," she said, her voice slurring, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and alcohol.
"There's got to be someone," I insisted, though my tone was growing indifferent, mostly out of helplessness.
She shot me a look-brief but raw-before her eyes fluttered again.
"I'm the typical definition of a disaster," she murmured, wobbling to her feet, weaving like she might collapse. "But not to worry..."
She paused, spinning slightly, steadying herself on the table.
"I can get myself home once I figure out which door to follow."
She pointed dramatically in the wrong direction and began staggering toward another group of people.
I groaned, grabbed her stuff, and rushed after her.
Dragging her gently but firmly along with me, I led her out of the bar.
I couldn't believe I was about to do this.
We took a taxi back to the hotel, but she passed out in the car.
I had to carry her-literally carry her-all the way up to my room before placing her on the sofa.
I was a little tipsy myself, but I headed straight for the shower. I needed to sober up.
If I was going to let a stranger stay with me all night-someone who might be my enemy, might have been sent to kill me, or maybe... just someone who desperately needed help-I needed to stay alert.
Staying awake was the only way to find out who she really was.
\---
Nancy's POV
My eyelids felt unbearably heavy, but I could still sense my body pressed against something soft.
Everything around me was spinning, a dizzy blur in my eyes.
Slowly sitting up, I tried to understand where I was, but my vision was too hazy to focus.
I pushed myself to my feet, only for my legs to give out beneath me.
I took one shaky step-then fell hard, crashing to the ground with a gasp of pain.
I lay there, wincing, until I heard footsteps. Someone was approaching.
And then-a tall, muscular figure stepped into view and reached out a hand toward me.
I froze.
Harry?
It was him-Harry. Standing right in front of me. He came back.
Without thinking, I took his hand, letting him help me to my feet.
And the moment I was steady, I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly like I never wanted to let go.
"Thank you for coming back," I whispered, voice trembling. "I thought you left me."
When I looked up again, his eyes were locked on mine-sadness swimming in them so deeply it made my chest ache.
But then... Harry's face faded.
It was no longer him.
In his place was another face-familiar, with piercing blue eyes.
He was so handsome I could hardly look away.
My gaze drifted down to his lips, and in that moment, all I wanted was for those lips to find mine.
He reached up gently, brushing away the tears streaming down my face.
His hand was cold, soothing against the heat of my burning cheeks, and I leaned into it, pressing my face against his touch like it could somehow piece me back together.
Who is this stranger who makes me feel... whole?
"Harry? Do you miss him so much that it makes you cry?" he asked softly, pulling his hand away from mine, uncurling my fingers that had clung to him.
He stepped back, creating space between us.
And I hated it.
I hated the distance.
Hated the emptiness it left in its place.
Hated the fear that if I blinked, he'd vanish.
So I did the only thing I could think of-I closed the space between us.
We stood inches apart, eyes locked.
"Yes," I breathed. "I miss him so much that all I want is to be with him."
But the moment I said it, a storm brewed inside me-anger, pain, betrayal.
The image of Harry with her-that btch-ignited something dark within me.
And before I could stop myself, I closed the distance entirely.
I crashed my lips against his, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck.
All I wanted at that moment...was to erase the memory of Harry kissing her-and replace it with this.
\---
Jaxon's POV
I was taken aback when she pressed her lips against mine.
It wasn't enough that she made my heart ache when I saw the tears in her beautiful green eyes-I also found myself burning with a need to know who this Harry guy was.
But now, having her this close, with her lips moving against mine, I was starting to lose control.
She kept kissing my lower lip, soft and teasing, and when she gave it a light bite, I immediately pulled her away from me.
"Stop. You need to stop," I said firmly, trying to breathe through the heat she stirred inside me. "You're drunk, and it's making you see things. I'm not Harry."
I searched her face, needing her to see me-not some ghost from her past.
Her deep forest green eyes met mine, full of longing and pain I didn't understand.
The tears that shimmered in them caught the light, reflecting something so raw it made my chest tighten.
"I know," she whispered.
Then, she closed the space between us again-and this time, I didn't stop her.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against me as I kissed her back.
My lips found hers again, and I took her lower lip into my mouth, softly, slowly-like I needed to memorize the taste of her.
She tasted so good, too good, and I didn't want to stop.
I groaned into her mouth, the sound low, guttural, betraying the control I was barely clinging to.
My hands tightened at her waist, fingers roaming along the curve of her back as I pulled her closer.
She fit against me perfectly-too perfectly-and I loved the feeling.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging slightly as her lips moved against mine-urgent at first, then hungry.
I kissed her back with the same hunger, tasting every breath, every shiver.
Our mouths danced together in a feverish rhythm, hot and desperate.
Her breath hitched when my tongue slid across her bottom lip, and she parted for me without hesitation.
Her tongue met mine, hesitant at first, then bolder.
The kiss was fire-pleasure burning through every inch of me, and I let it consume me.
One of my hands slid up to cup the side of her neck, my thumb brushing her jaw as I angled her face, deepening the kiss.
She moaned softly against me, the sound shooting straight through my body like electricity.
Her hands were everywhere-tracing my shoulders, skimming down my chest, clinging to me like she was scared I'd disappear.
I let my own hands travel down her waist, lifting her gently as she wrapped her legs around me.
I carried her to the sofa, sitting down with her on my lap.
One hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, my fingertips grazing the warm skin of her lower back.
She shivered beneath my touch-but she didn't stop me.
If anything, she kissed me harder, hungrier, like she needed this more than breath.
We finally broke apart only to breathe, our foreheads pressed together, gasping, hearts hammering like war drums in the silence.
Our eyes locked.
I knew we needed to stop.
I needed to stop-before we did something we'd regret.
"We need to stop," I murmured, my voice hoarse and raw.
"Why? I want this," she whispered back, her voice nothing more than a rasp.
Then she let her hands trail down my chest, lower, until they brushed against me-reminding me just how much she'd undone me.
A groan tore from my lips as I caught her wrist.
"How come your body isn't saying the same thing as you?" she asked, a smirk spreading across her face-one that only made things worse.
"I can't offer you anything and..."
I didn't get to finish.
She pressed her finger gently against my lips, silencing me.
"I don't need anything from you," she said quietly.
And then she kissed me again-deeper, slower-like she was trying to heal the both of us with her lips.
She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, and for a heartbeat, we just stared.
Then she buried her face in the crook of my neck, sucking and biting softly-and the tiny bites made my breath catch, stealing the last thread of control I had.
With a groan, I stood up, pulling her into my arms.
And without another word, I carried her to my bed.