Protective Instincts

RYAN

The midnight mixer had always been the event of the year where students from all grades connect. But it wasn't really about connecting,it was mostly a dazzling affair where students showcased their wealth and status, a parade of glitter and gold. Students from every grade mingled, flaunting their families' money and their social clout.

“...and I won the Best Dressed award for the third consecutive year!” the guy droned on, his voice dripping with self-importance. His name was Marcus. He is in the same grade as me, known for his designer clothes and perfectly coiffed hair.

“It’s really a testament to my taste, you know? I mean, look at this suit! Custom tailored. Only the finest Italian fabric. My stylist had to fight to get me this color before it sold out. And I know I make it look easy, but honestly, it takes a lot of work to maintain this level of excellence.”

I half-listened as he continued. “Last year, I even had to give a few pointers to some of the underclassmen—fashion can be brutal, but if you want to play with the big dogs, you better come correct. Just look at how some of them dress. I mean, really! It’s a shame they even bother showing up when they can’t match the energy of this event.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his arrogance. In a room full of glitz and glamor, Marcus was trying to outshine everyone, and frankly, he was failing miserably. And why the hell is Jack and Kyle not here already??

“Seriously, Ryan, what do you think?” Marcus leaned closer, as if expecting me to validate his absurdity. “Should I have gone for the blue suit instead? Everyone keeps telling me blue is the color of the season.”

“I think you should focus less on fashion advice and more on not being a joke,” I finally replied, my voice steady and laced with a hint of disdain

“Oh you don't have to..” He stopped abruptly. Thank God. My brain might really turn into mush if I had to listen to him drone on.

“Who's that?” He asked as he threw his gaze over my shoulder,his face clouded with hunger. “She's so damn hot” He licked his lips and I felt bile rise up to my throat.

I turned out of curiosity and when I finally located the source of Marcus' hungry look, my jaw tightened,my muscle snapped and it took me a lot of effort to not break the champagne glass I held

She strode into the room,her body droned into a sleek blue gown that hung her curves. Her hair was gathered up in a fancy hairdo, exposing her swan like neck and smooth shoulders. Blue eyes. Delicate skin. Red lips with a smile plastered on her lips
A pulse ticked in my jaw.

What the hell is Violet doing here??

I wanted to gouge out the eyes of every guy staring at her as if they were starved. It felt like a primal instinct—especially with Marcus, whose gaze lingered on her a moment too long. If he didn’t put his tongue back in his mouth soon, I’d consider cutting it out for him.

I left him salivating behind me without a word and stalked toward Violet.

I was barely halfway across the room when someone stepped into my path.

“Ryan, you came,” Evelyn purred, her lips curling into a practiced smile.

She was wearing a tight, glittering silver dress. Her makeup was meticulously done, and her black hair cascaded in soft waves over her bare shoulders. Normally,the outfit would have turned me on but as I looked at her, I didn’t feel the slightest pull. The usual magnetic pull that she’d once? It was gone for me. Completely.

“It’s been a while, Ryan,” she said, stepping closer, her voice lowering as if we were sharing a secret.

“I’ve been busy,” I replied flatly, sidestepping her ever so slightly in an attempt to keep my line of sight on Violet.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, her hand moving to graze my arm. “But you’re never too busy for us,” she said

“There was never an ‘us,’ Evelyn.” The words came out sharp, and I watched as her smile faltered. Her hand paused, fingers hovering near my sleeve before she pulled them back, clearly stung.

For a moment, something flickered in her eyes, but she masked it quickly with a practiced pout. She made another attempt, reaching for me again, her fingers grazing my shoulder, but I shrugged her off before she could get any closer.

“I have to go,” I said, already turning away from her.

“It’s her again, isn’t it? Violet.” Evelyn’s voice was bitter now, a hint of venom creeping into her tone.

I didn’t bother responding. There was no point. Without looking back, I continued walking toward Violet. By the time I got there,she was already…

Dancing.

With him.

My jaw clenched, fists tightening as I watched Luke twirl her around, his hand lingering on her waist a little too long for my liking. Her smile—bright and carefree—only made it worse. She looked like she didn’t have a care in the world, while I felt the anger bubbling inside me, threatening to boil over.

“Violet,” I called, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through the music.

Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide with surprise, and then wariness. Good. She should be wary. She should know better than to be here, dressed like this, dancing with him. She should be home, away from all of this, away from the prying eyes of every man who thought they had a right to look at her like she was theirs to touch.

“Ryan?” Her voice was soft, uncertain.

Luke, the fucking moron, nodded at me like nothing was wrong.

“Oh, hi Ryan,” he chirped, his usual obliviousness grating on my nerves. I could bet everything I had that either he was the one or that chatterbox of her friend Ashley who doesn't seem to be here presently had convinced her to come here.

I didn’t respond to him. I didn’t even look at him as I moved forward, wedging myself between him and Violet. My hand shot out, grabbing his arm and pulling him off her with more force than necessary. He flinched, eyes wide with surprise.

“I need to talk to her,” I said, my tone.

Luke stammered, “Oh, y-yeah, s-sure,” before awkwardly stepping back, his eyes darting between me and Violet.

Ignoring Violet protests, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the crowd, weaving us through the party until we were out of earshot.

“Ryan, what the hell? Let me go,” Violet protested, tugging at her wrist, but I didn’t let go.

I turned to face her, my grip loosening but still firm enough to hold her in place. “What the hell are you doing here. You claimed to be sick”

“And you claimed to be going for a basketball practice,game whatever”

Yeah but that doesn't matter right now.

“Now you've successfully sent Luke off” Her eyes flashed with anger. Her lips parted, lush and wet, and an insane desire to find out whether they tasted as sweet as they looked overwhelmed me.

I tightened my hold on her and she gasped.

“Nice try with that guy out there,” I said, my voice low. “But why make the poor guy suffer when you're not even interested in him?”

Her eyes flashed with defiance. “You think I’m not interested in him? You’re wrong. Luke is sweet and nice, and—”

“Yeah, sweet and nice,” I cut her off. “But that’s not really your type, is it?”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she held my gaze. “Since you know me so well, Tell me my type then”

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing just above her ear, and I could feel her pulse quicken. “Sweet and nice huh?” I murmured, my voice low and teasing. “That’ll only put you to sleep, won’t it? You crave someone who can keep up with you, who can make things interesting.”

She didn’t flinch, but I could feel the tension between us growing, her breath catching slightly. I let my fingers trace the curve of her arm, barely touching, but enough to feel the goosebumps rise on her skin.

“You need someone who’s not afraid to push you, to… show you how to let go of all that control you try so hard to keep.”

Her body stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. I leaned in even closer, my voice dropping to a hushed whisper.
“You don’t want someone who just adores you. You need someone who can push you, challenge you and make you beg for more little mouse”