Helena's POV
Patrick trails behind Melanie and me in his car as we drive back from the nightclub, his presence suffocating even from a distance. The contradiction tears at me—how can I crave someone so desperately while simultaneously loathing their very existence?
Melanie sprawls across the passenger seat, belting out lyrics at volumes that make my ears ring. Every fiber of my being wants to tell her to shut up, but I bite my tongue. Patrick discovered her in that dark corner with some rogue she-wolf's mouth doing unspeakable things to her.
Her euphoric state makes me want to disappear.
"God, she had such a talented tongue," she shrieks over the blasting music. "Want me to demonstrate when we get home?"
I shoot her a withering look. "You're wasted, Melanie."
She flops her head into my lap, grinning up at me. "Doesn't mean I can't rock your world. Unless you're keeping yourself pure for Patrick?"
