A whisper of doubt reaches me when I finally get to him and his hand closes around my wrist like a shackle. He pulls me the rest of the way, but it’s me he glowers at, not Theo.
“What the fuck was that?” he demands, voice low.
A headier wave of fear rolls over me and I try to pull my arm from his vise-like grip. “Let me go.”
Brant scowls, and I look up at him like a rabbit caught in a trap, exactly the wrong way to look at him, the wrong way to respond. Logically, I know that, but Theo’s words are still in my head and I’m all shaken up.
Rather than release me, Brant’s hold tightens and his jaw locks. My instincts tell me to fight harder and get the hell away from him, but I don’t know if it’s really my instincts, or just Theo getting in my head making me feel so scared.
I don’t want to inflame the situation even more, so I try to rein in my reaction. I make myself stop resisting, since my resistance only makes him hold on tighter.
The moment feels like it goes on forever, but it’s really only a few tense seconds. Brant doesn’t say another word, just stares at me like he doesn’t know who I am.
After a moment, he drags me toward the house. My stomach is in knots, but I know I’m going wherever he wants me to whether I go with or without a struggle. Not wanting to draw more attention to myself than I already have, I follow him even though it feels like a bad idea.
We pass Bri in the kitchen, making a new batch of punch to take outside. I’m momentarily relieved she was in here when Theo made things weird—I was so worried about Brant’s reaction, I didn’t have time to search the crowd for hers.
“Hey, you two,” she greets cheerfully, but her expression droops when she sees Brant dragging me by the wrist.
The look on my face probably doesn’t help, so I try to school it and flash a smile, but before I can, Brant is already hauling me out of the kitchen.
Bri abandons the punch on the counter and moves toward the hall. “Is everything okay?” she calls after us.
“We’re fine,” Brant barks back.
My face heats up, so I don’t look back. I don’t think I would be able to do much to reassure her right this second.
Brant hauls me into the spare bedroom on the lower level, the one where the desktop computer is—the one where Theo took my virginity. My body heats up with even more shame, so by the time Brant closes the door behind us and rounds on me, I’m a mess of guilt and bad decisions.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt before he even says anything.
“For what?” he asks, his voice so low and dangerous, it makes my tummy flutter.
“I don’t know…” I back away from him. Brant steps forward when I step back, but even knowing I’m cornering myself, I keep retreating. “For everything. For all of it.”
Disregarding my fearful blanket apology, Brant demands, “What did he say to you?”
Fumbling for an answer, I back myself up against a wall. Since I can’t retreat any farther, I stop, but Brant moves in right on top of me, caging me against the wall with a strong arm on each side of my head.
He feels so much bigger and more imposing when he’s angry, like a beautiful but unforgiving wall of man. The sense of danger radiating off him as he towers over me is no illusion, either. I know firsthand the danger is real. That should scare me—and it does, but it also turns me on. I’m caught between fear and longing, and he’s standing so close to me, my hormones are starting to overthrow my trepidation.
I can smell him, his natural, masculine scent, and it makes my stomach knot up with desire. I want to taste him. I want to peel his shirt off and kiss my way across his muscular chest. I want his strong hands grabbing me and yanking me close to his hard body. I want to feel his skin beneath my lips as I leave desperate kisses all the way down his abdomen and unbuckle his belt.
Since he’s caging me in but not doing anything to restrain me further, I tentatively reach out and rest my hands on his sides. “Why are you mad at me?” I ask softly.
“Why are you acting like you’ve done something wrong?” he fires back.
“Because you’re mad at me,” I offer, lifting my eyebrows. “I don’t know if you know this about yourself, but you’re a little scary when you’re angry.”
“I told you not to be alone with him,” Brant reminds me.
“I wasn’t. I was in the pool with the baby, and there were plenty of other people in the yard.”