🎉 Axel's POV — At the Party
The moment we stepped into Ridge Hall, the chaos hit me like a punch. Music thumped through the room, lights flashed across sweaty bodies, and the smell of beer and perfume made my stomach tighten.
I was already annoyed — annoyed at the noise, annoyed at the crowd, annoyed at the fact that I even came here. And then I saw her.
Ava.
Right in the middle of the dance floor, laughing, spinning, a beer in her hand, completely oblivious to the chaos around her. She wasn't just standing out — she was commanding attention. Every head in the room subtly gravitated toward her, and I could feel my jaw tighten so hard it might crack.
I gritted my teeth. "Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath.
Her hair caught the strobe lights as she moved, and every subtle sway, every laugh, every carefree gesture made my blood boil. She looked amazing, and it wasn't fair. Not only was she completely in her element here, but she was doing it in a way that made me… uncomfortable.
Not just because she was there, but because she was there like this, with people watching her, noticing her, and somehow… daring me not to care.
Jay nudged me from the side. "Dude… she's killing it. Everyone's staring."
I ignored him. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to admit that I was… watching her too.
She tilted her head back, laughing with someone across the floor, completely unaware that I was scanning every move she made. My stomach twisted — protective, possessive, and furious all at once.
And that beer in her hand? Oh, that was the worst. It made her look relaxed, careless, untouchable — like she could walk through this chaos without a single worry. Like she didn't need me to fix anything.
Which made me want to step in even more.
I clenched my fists, trying to keep my distance, trying not to make a scene. But every beat of the music, every turn she made, every laugh that echoed toward me, it was like a spark on dry grass.
And I knew, without question, that this night wasn't going to end with either of us calm.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Ava — in the middle of the chaotic dance floor, hair catching every strobe light, red dress shimmering like fire — already had three glasses of beer in her hand. She laughed, spun, and raised a toast to someone across the room, completely unbothered by the crowd pressing around her.
I felt my chest tighten. Three drinks? On a night like this? The idea of her surrounded by all these people — drunk, loud, careless — made my blood boil.
And then I saw them.
Two guys, grinning way too arrogantly, edging closer to her. One of them was laughing at something she said, the other pretending to casually brush past, but their eyes were locked on her in a way that made my teeth grit.
I nearly lost it.
I didn't think. I just moved, weaving through the crowd, every step fueled by pure, unfiltered rage. My friends called out to me, trying to warn me, but I ignored them. My vision narrowed. Them. Her. The distance between us shrinking with every heartbeat.
When I got close enough, I dropped into a deadly calm I'd rarely felt before. I didn't even speak. I didn't need to. My eyes — murderous, sharp, unrelenting — locked onto theirs, and I could see it: they knew I was not joking.
One of the guys faltered, and the smirk on his face disappeared instantly.
"Uh… we were just… um…" the other stammered, clearly realizing he'd misread the situation.
I didn't move a muscle. Just stood there, chest tight, every fiber of me vibrating with protective fury. The crowd around us blurred into nothing — all I could see was her, laughing softly, completely unaware of the tension I'd just exploded into.
She looked at me then, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. Probably wondering why I'd materialized out of nowhere, probably thinking I was being dramatic.
I didn't care. Not now.
Not when she was in the middle of that floor, three beers down, and completely unbothered by the chaos of drunken idiots surrounding her.
I wouldn't let anyone touch her. Not like that. Not tonight.
I barely registered the crowd around me anymore. My eyes stayed locked on Ava as I approached, every step deliberate, every muscle coiled like a spring. My fists were still clenched from the rage, but all of that tension doubled when I saw her look up — and notice me.
Her lips curved into that teasing little smile that drove me insane. The one that said, I know exactly what I'm doing.
Before I could say anything, she leaned toward me, a flash of daring in her eyes, and wrapped her arms around my neck. My heartbeat stuttered — shock, disbelief, and something dangerously close to pleasure all collided at once.
"Relax, Axel," she said softly, her breath warm against my ear. "You look like you're about to explode."
I froze. My chest heaved. Explode didn't even begin to cover it. My entire body wanted to pull her closer, clamp her safely against me, and never let go — but my brain kept screaming stay calm, stay calm.
I gave her the barest of looks, trying to suppress the fire in my chest. "Three beers," I muttered under my breath, "and you're out here in the middle of the floor like this?"
Her laughter was soft, teasing, wrapping around me like a challenge. "And?" She leaned slightly into me, her arms still tight around my neck. "You're not going to leave me here, are you?"
Every instinct in me screamed no, but I bit back the words. Instead, I lowered my forehead to hers for just a fraction of a second, my arms staying tense at my sides. I wanted to wrap them around her waist, pull her close, keep her safe — but I had to maintain control, had to keep the wall between us intact.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "You're so cute when you're jealous," she whispered.
Cute? My jaw clenched. My ears burned.
"You think this is funny?" I ground out, voice low, dangerous. "I don't like you in the middle of a floor full of idiots like this."
She leaned a little closer, pressing herself just enough to make my heart hammer in protest. "Then come save me," she murmured, teasing, daring me.
I swallowed hard, staring into her eyes, my mind screaming protect her, grab her, never let anyone near her again.
And for the first time that night, I didn't care about pretending to be calm. I stepped closer, closing the space between us just a little more, and let her feel the full weight of my possessiveness, my irritation, and my growing… something else.
Something I wasn't ready to admit — but couldn't deny.Her arms around my neck, teasing smile, and fearless gaze made my brain short-circuit. Every instinct I had was screaming — protect her, control this, don't let anyone touch her, don't let anyone near her, don't let her slip away.
But now, being this close, feeling her warmth pressed against me, smelling the faint scent of her perfume mixed with the chaos of the party… it was harder than I expected to focus. Harder than I wanted to admit.
She tilted her head, lips brushing dangerously close to my ear. "Relax," she whispered again, like it was a game, like she knew exactly the effect she had on me.
I wanted to growl. I wanted to pull her tighter, keep her here, and make sure she only belonged to me for a second longer. But I couldn't. Not in the middle of a floor where every drunk idiot could mistake my reaction as permission.
Still, I did step closer, closing the space, chest almost brushing hers. My hands hovered — not touching, but the threat in my posture was clear. Stay away. Don't even think about touching her. And yet, the way she leaned into me made me want to ignore every rule I had.
Her laughter — soft, teasing, dangerous — wrapped around me like a challenge. "You're so serious, Axel. Did you know that? Jealousy looks… good on you."
I clenched my jaw, trying to resist the urge to smirk, to tease her back, to pull her in and shut out the entire room. "I'm not jealous," I growled, though the low tone of my voice betrayed me.
"Oh, sure," she murmured, tilting her head against my shoulder slightly, so close, and I could feel the heat radiating off her body. "Not jealous at all. Totally fine with three beers and half the crowd noticing me."
I pressed my forehead lightly to hers, just enough to assert dominance, but not enough to cross a line yet. My heartbeat hammered in my ears. "You're pushing it," I warned, my voice low and dangerous. "I should drag you somewhere quieter before someone else gets any ideas."
Her eyes sparkled, mischievous and daring. "And… you want to, don't you?"
My hands itched to grab her waist, to pull her tight, to feel her press closer against me — to make her mine even for just a second. I resisted, barely. My mind screamed yes, but my pride and the chaos of the party screamed wait.
So instead, I let my gaze burn into hers, unrelenting and possessive, a silent message she could feel without a word: I'm here. I'm watching. No one touches you but me.
Her lips curved into a knowing smile, and my stomach tightened. She knew exactly the effect she had on me, and I hated — and loved — that she did.
I tightened my stance slightly, letting the crowd blur around us. For a moment, it was just her and me — her laughter, her warmth, her teasing — and all I could do was stand guard, caught between irritation, protectiveness, and the undeniable pull I felt toward her.
The rest of the world, the party, the flashing lights, the drunk idiots — none of it mattered. Only her.
And I knew… tonight, nothing was going to be simple.