┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

With people constantly moving around, going to the bar, or heading to dance, our seats kept changing and I went from sitting right next to Emmy to all the way across from her.

I glanced at Georgia, who was beside me, when she choked on another shot. I took the glass away, setting it on the counter. She cringed and then sipped on the mojito I got for her. It's a virgin mojito, but she doesn't know that. "You're still only nineteen, Georgia," I mumbled. "And I know you can drink here but dial it down a notch, will you? Your mom will kill me."

"No she won't," she scoffed. "I already got someone to promise to help me out."

My eyes narrowed. "Who?"

She scanned the room and then pointed towards the bar. "Him!"

I followed that direction, instantly recognizing him. "That Brandon Castle guy?"

"Carlisle," she corrected. "It's Brandon Carlisle."

"I thought you said he wasn't a friend," I said pointedly.

"No, he's not. But he's staying at our hotel, I bet you didn't know that."

"All right. You know the guy. If you need anything, let me know."

"I'm going to get another drink," Toby announced, standing up, leaving the seat beside Emilia empty.

I began standing up but almost cursed when Brett graced us with his presence. Almost thirty minutes late. He took the seat beside her and she exchanged a look with Remy before turning to him.

"Hey," she said politely.

"Hey. Sorry, I'm late, by the way."

"Oh, that's okay," Remy shrugged, mumbling under her breath, "It's not like we were waiting."

While Brett tried his hardest to get Emmy to talk to him, I felt annoyance settling deep within me. More than how much I usually experience when I see his face.

Can he take a fucking hint?

"You want to get a drink?" he asked her, pointing towards the bar.

"Oh, no, I'm good. I've had enough for tonight. No more shots. I'm uh, I'm all good sipping on a mojito, you should get a drink though. You just got here."

"That's fine, I'll grab one in a bit. But hey, you want to dance?"

She chuckled awkwardly, taking a peek at me.

I tried my best to fight any dirty looks off my face because I am well aware of the fact that I have no right to tell her what to do. She can dance with anybody she wants, she's not my girlfriend so I can't exactly stop her. Plus, just because she dances with a guy doesn't mean she's into him. That still doesn't mean I would like watching her dance with some guy who isn't me.

"I don't really dance," she said hesitantly, "but uh, maybe we all should, know you? I mean, look at Toby out there, he found a dance partner. We should all move a bit instead of just sitting here. Right?" She turned to all of us.

"Sure," Remy shrugged.

"All right," Aspen agreed too.

With that, Brett and I, who were sitting on the very outside of both ends of the round couch around the table, stood up. Both Aspen and I steadied Georgia while she stumbled and then sat her back down. "You stay there until your head's not spinning," I huffed.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Georgie?" Aspen asked, holding up one.

"Three?" she guessed.

I chuckled, "Yeah. You're going to be here for a while. Why don't we send you Castle boy over to keep you company?"

She shrugged, munching on ice. Aspen agreed to pass on the message to Castle boy, so I turned my attention back to Emilia, who was... nowhere to be found?

I scanned the room a bit before walking towards the crowd. When I finally spotted her, she was squeezing past people, heading this way. I stayed in the same spot so she could see me but she didn't, instead, she just ran right into me while she watched people to ensure she didn't bump into anyone.

"Oh," she squeaked, steadying herself with her hands on my chest. "Oh, hi," she grinned up at me.

"Hi," I chuckled, resting my hands on her waist.

"Do you want to get a drink?" she asked.

I paused, taking a step closer to her and leaning down to her ear. "As much as I would love to, I don't think being drunk around you is a very good idea," I said, keeping my voice low. I pulled back to look at her and she had her brows raised.

"Well, I'm sure you have more self-control than that," she teased, grinning widely.

"I'm not," I retorted, narrowing my eyes.

"Let's dance then," she negotiated.

"I thought you didn't dance," I smirked.

"I dance with you. You're the exception," she shrugged, pulling me towards the crowd. A lot more people decided to crowd the room and begin dancing when the beginning of On The Floor by JLO started playing through the speakers, a little slower than the original song.

She stared at me for a second and I took her distracted moment and made it my own, lowering my hands to her hips and pulling her forward, taking her by surprise. She stumbled, placing her hands on my shoulders not once breaking eye contact. She took a small step back and I grabbed her hand, spinning her around once before pulling her in. She chuckled, starting to move with me as I pushed her out and rolled her in, holding her back to my chest. "You were mean earlier," she said, looking up at me.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately, spinning her around to face me.

"Do you even know what you did?" she laughed.

"No, I'm still sorry," I replied.

She grinned while I turned us around and spun her around once more. "You didn't kiss me," she reminded me.

"Ah, that. Yeah, I didn't. Neither did you," I smirked, dipping her once.

She laughed harder, throwing her head back before I brought her up slowly. "I can do it now," she reasoned as the song faded out halfway through, blending into another one.

"But will you?" I leaned in, tilting her chin up with a finger.

She moved closer but dodged me once I almost had her, moving to my ear. "No," she whispered. I groaned softly as she pushed me away gently.

"Em!" We both looked to the bar where Brett called her from.

I stared at her in disbelief. "I'm going to kill him, I swear."

She laughed, "He's not getting anywhere."

"Does he know that?" I scoffed.

"He's a nice guy, you know. But that's all he is. He's not you. I hope you know you have nothing to worry about. I'll be right back. Don't find another dance partner."

I grabbed her hand as she walked past me and tugged her back. She raised her brows at me before I leaned in, placing a kiss on her cheek, and then let her go. She grinned, skipping over to the bar. I used that time to take a look at Georgia and make sure she was okay, not passed out or throwing up, and once I saw Brandon sitting there while she rested her head on his shoulder, blabbering while he rolled his eyes, I knew she was safe, so I didn't bother interrupting.

I stopped at this side of the room, near the bar where Remy and Aspen were sitting, and talked to them for a while.

Clearly, I lost track of time and only realized when a loud crash came from that end of the room. Everybody looked over but with the music blaring, flashing lights, and the swarm of people, I couldn't make out anything. The others shook it off, but I couldn't. "Where's Emilia?" I asked, standing up from the barstool.

"With Brett," Aspen answered.

I swear to God if he tried something.

I pushed past the crowd, reaching that end of the room and spotting them. Emilia was standing with her back to Brett while he sat behind her. I shouldered a few more people, trying to get there while I realized what was going on. Emilia was facing and arguing with two other people. Strangers, who were sitting behind her.

"¿Qué pasó?" someone asked as I walked past them. What happened?

"Él la tocó," someone else replied. He touched her.

Moving forward faster, I got there just as Brett stood up, pulling Emilia, forcing her to take a step back. The music in the club was turned down and faded into the background until I could hear them. "Emilia, come on, let it go. Look, man, we're sorry. We don't want any trouble."

"What are you talking about?" she scoffed, ripping her arm away. "Did you not see what he was doing?"

"I know, but—"

"But what?" she snapped at Brett. "I told him to shut up and he didn't, Brett, what else do you want me to do?"

"¿Qué pasó?" another person asked.

"Él dijo mierda sucia," a guy shrugged. He said dirty shit.

And then my jaw ticked. I made my way over, grabbing Emilia's arm just as one of the guys stood from their barstool and pulled her aside.

She turned to me, visibly relaxing a bit.

"What happened? Are you okay?" I asked, holding onto her.

She nodded uncomfortably.

"What happened?" I repeated.

"He... he um," she scratched her temple, "he touched me." Looking away from me, she glared that way.

"Where?" I asked, fire blazing inside of me.

"My waist and my chest," she mumbled.

I glanced at Brett, fuming, absolutely raging.

How could he not do anything to help her?

"Who did this to you?"

"The guy in the red t-shirt. Adam, don't. I can handle this."

"I have no doubt that you can," I replied. "But you shouldn't have to."

Before I could even go there and do or say something, the guy got up again, facing Emmy and me. "What?" he spat, his Spanish accent and dialect heavy. "¿Qué vas a hacer?" he scoffed, walking over slowly. What are you going to do?

"Adam," Emilia warned.

"Emmy, move."

"Adam—"

"I said move, Emilia."

She held my gaze but stepped to the side, folding her arms across her chest, watching nervously.

"How dare you touch her?" I seethed, keeping my hands behind my back. It doesn't count as assault if he hits me first. I wasn't planning to strike first, but the shit he was saying in Spanish made my blood boil.

She shouldn't dress like that if she doesn't want it. Have some control over your bitch. I can teach her, if you want. I guess you like that whore.

The final one pulled my last straw and in a rush, I grabbed the collar of his t-shirt before pummeling a few punches into his face, releasing him with a hard shove when Aspen yelled, "Adam!" while people watched. "Adam," he repeated, grabbing my shirt and pulling me outside forcefully.

"Let me go!" I snapped, pushing him off as he backed me up against the wall outside.

"Calm down!" he yelled back.

"Calm down? You want me to calm down? Do you have any idea what kind of shit he was talking back there?! I will fucking kill that bastard! How dare he touch her? Nobody will fucking touch her like that! No one!" I shouted, giving him a push he definitely didn't deserve. "If someone touches her like that, they're dead," I huffed, my chest heaving a bit as I leaned against the wall.

"Hey, I get it. Adam, I get it. But you have to be careful!" he scolded. "Don't be reckless like that. I know how angry you must be—"

"Angry," I chuckled dryly.

"But Adam, she wouldn't want to see you like that."

"I doubt that," I scoffed, "she didn't stop me, you did."

"Would she even be able to stop you?! Adam, I know how much she means to you, but—"

"Aspen, that girl is my whole life."

He stopped, staring at me in surprise.

"She's the only part of my life I can't survive without anymore. She's my past, my present, and the only thing certain in my future, okay? When I see my future, I don't see it without her in it. Seeing something upsetting her or someone hurting her drives me insane," I rambled on and on.

After a minute of silence, he finally said, "I can tell."

I sighed, a little calmer by now. "What do you mean?"

"You've never gotten angry like this. Not that I've seen it. You're always calm and in control. She takes that control out of you. You're crazy. Crazy in love with her," he chuckled softly.

We both looked at the door as it opened and Emilia stepped out slowly. We both faced her and she looked between us, seeming a bit angry before she turned her attention to me completely. "I want to go back to the hotel."

I nodded softly. "Okay. Let's go."

.

.

.

.

.