Page 48 of Rain Delay

“We’re not,” Eliana cut in quickly.

But at the same time I said, “She’s with me.”

Her head snapped toward me. “Wyatt.”

I couldn’t make eye contact with her. I remained focused on getting this prick away from her.

Garrett raised his brows. “Right, right.” His gaze dropped briefly to my hand. “You two enjoy the party…”

My arm was still around her waist when she looked at me.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice low but not angry. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

I finally looked at her, really looked. Being up close with her, she’s even more distracting. Her eyes, her glossed lips, the faint warmth of her skin under my arm.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” I said honestly.

Her brows knit together slightly. “Wyatt, I…”

“Or touching you,” I added, jaw tightening. “Or standing that close.”

Her body stiffened in shock, the words wanting to come out of her mouth, but her brain wouldn’t let her speak. She just stared at me, eyes wide and wordless.

“That doesn’t concern you, Wyatt. You’re my ex, remember?”

I didn’t realize the possessiveness that would come over me seeing her with another guy. I thought I was getting good at pretending she wasn’t all I thought about.

Guess my idea of good wasn’t good enough.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I get that.”

Neither one of us moved. My hand didn’t move. Her eyes dropped to my arm, then lifted back to mine, her expression shifting just slightly.

I could see the annoyance in her eyes. “Then why does it feel like you don’t?”

Because I never stopped caring for you.

“Eliana,” I started, my voice lower, rougher than I meant it to be. “I didn’t –”

“You didn’t what?” she pressed, tilting her head. “Mean to stake a claim in the middle of a party? Because that’s what it sure as hell looked like.”

I exhaled slowly, pulling my arm back from her. “That’s not –”

“What is it then, Wyatt?” she cut in again, sharper. “Not what you meant, or not what you’re willing to admit to yourself?”

I clenched my jaw.

“I didn’t like it,” I finally admitted. “Okay? I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“You don’t get to decide who looks at me, Wyatt. You gave up that right five years ago.”

“I know that.”

“But, do you?” she shot back. “Because you walked over here like you had some kind of –”

“I don’t have a right,” I said, cutting her off. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel something about it.”

Her lips parted like she wasn’t prepared to hear that.