He turned and faced Lyric, and all she could do was stand there and stare at the carnage. He’d come to her rescue, saved her from being raped by Devon.
She should have felt fear over all of this, over what Devon had been doing to her. Hell, she should have been traumatized. But all she felt was this warmth move through her.
Landon moved back to her, and once in front of her all she could do was tilt her head back and look at him. He had blood on his shirt, and she assumed his fists, too.
“You’re okay?” he asked in a gravelly voice. He was looking her over, but it wasn’t heated or sexual He was making sure she was okay.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, and before she knew what she was doing she threw herself in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and all she could feel was that ever-present warmth in her. After a few seconds he had his arms around her waist and held her tight.
“I could have killed him for touching you, Lyric.”
She breathed out and nodded. “I’m glad you didn’t. He’s not worth it, Landon.” She pulled back and smiled at him. “Thank you.”
He reached out and smoothed his thumb along her cheek, and that’s when she felt the wetness smear along her skin. She hadn’t even realized she’d still been crying.
“Let’s go home.”
She hadn’t heard anything better in a long time.
Chapter
Ten
Landon had started the gas fireplace up, even though it wasn’t that cold out. But she liked having the lights off, and since she was shaking slightly, the warmth felt incredible.
He’d even made her some tea and wrapped a blanket around her. She hadn’t realized how being comforted by him would feel so good.
She had her feet curled under her, her half drunk tea in her hands, and stared at the fireplace. Landon was in the chair across from her, but she felt his gaze on her.
Looking over at him, she saw this hard expression on his face, his eyes locked on hers.
“You okay?” she asked, because he still seemed so angry, so disconnected even.
He breathed out and leaned back on the chair, looking over at the fire. For a few seconds she didn’t speak or move. “I want to go back there and kick his ass all over again.”
As they’d been leaving she’d seen Devon picking his sorry ass off the ground and stumbling back to the party. Who knew what he’d tell everyone about why his face was fucked up. She didn’t care though.
“He’s not worth it,” she said again.
Landon looked at her again, his jaw clenched tightly. “But you are.”
His statement took her aback for a second, and she was startled that he’d said something like that, but her entire body tingled as well. More silence passed between them. She didn’t know how to respond, so instead of saying something stupid she stood.
“I’m going to put this in the sink.”
He was still watching her intensely.
“You want anything?” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“No,” he said softly, but there was still that deepness to his voice, that serrated noise that moved along her body as if he’d reached out and touched her.
She nodded and turned, feeling her hands shake and her knees lock up. What was happening to her? Was she actually wanting something with Landon, something sexual, personal, something that they shouldn’t be doing?
She went into the kitchen and set the cup in the sink. For a second she just braced her hands on the edge of the counter and looked out the window.
Her mind was going through a hundred different thoughts right now, and it all had to do with Landon.
Breathing out once more she turned and headed back into the living room. He was standing in front of the fireplace now, her father’s bottle of whiskey in his hand. He took a swig, turned and faced her, and held it out to her.
She shouldn’t drink anymore, but after the night she had, and what she was feeling for Landon, she said screw it. Taking the bottle she tipped it back and swallowed a mouthful. It burned going down, but she welcomed the discomfort.
“What are you thinking?” he asked in a deep, but soft voice.
She thought about lying, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to be truthful with Landon, especially after what he’d done for her tonight. Handing the bottle back to him, Lyric stared at him, her throat tight, dry.
“I’m thinking about you,” she said in all honesty.
He didn’t answer right away, but he did place the bottle on the mantel and turn fully to face her. “I’m thinking about you, too, Lyric.”
She clenched her hands at the way she felt when he said her name. Everything in her body heated, becoming sensitized and he hadn’t done anything but look at her and speak to her.