CHAPTER NINE

Loki

With my emotions already in turmoil, seeing the usually so effervescent and bubbly Bea falling apart for two nights in a row instantly concerns me as much as it angers me. My heart races unbearably fast as I give a polite head bob to Navy in thanks, and she takes off, not even caring about shutting the den door.

My aim right now is to get to Bea and stop her from making any more of a fool of herself than she already has been. With Nickelback's "Shakin' Hands" playing loudly over the sound system, I storm up to her as she dances seductively on top of the bar in a scene reminiscent of Coyote Ugly . Swirling her shirt around in her hand, singing along to the words of the song about the girl next door in LA who turned into a high-end whore, this brings new meaning to the word ugly.

She doesn't even see me approaching, but just in front of her, Prospects Hayes, Eggs, and Weaver stand below her, all cheering, hollering, and encouraging her like she's some kind of fucking stripper.

"Yeah, baby, show us what you got!" Hayes catcalls her.

My fists clench so tightly that my knuckles turn white, my nails digging into my palms so deep I know they will bleed, but I can't feel it. My jaw locks, teeth grinding together, and a low growl escapes my throat. Every muscle in my body tenses as I stare at her, the heat of my rage radiating off me in waves. My vision blurs at the edges, and all I can focus on is the fact she's half-fucking-naked, dancing carelessly, wasted with not only my brothers but a fucking prospect ogling her.

It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to lunge at him, not to give in to the primal urge to sucker punch every one of these fuckers.

The anger is undeniable.

All-consuming.

A roaring inferno that threatens to burn everything in its path and leave a singed wasteland.

Shoving Hayes with all my might, he loses his balance, tripping and falling flat on his ass, his beer spilling all over his chest. "Hey, what the fu…" He pauses when he realizes it's me staring down at him, trying with everything I have to hold myself together.

Eggs and Weaver are by my side in an instant. "Hey, VP, you good?" Weaver asks.

Glaring at him, I scowl as Bea squats down, giggling right next to me on the bar. Using her shirt, she loops it around my neck playfully. "Oh c'mon, Loki… we're all just trying to have a little fun. Don't be so serious !" She's grinning as I slowly turn to look at her.

My chest is heaving as I grab her shirt, removing it from around me, but she still has hold of it. "Playtime is over, Bea. Get down from the bar. Now! " I demand.

She snorts out a laugh, standing tall on top of the bar and kicking a cardboard drink coaster my way. It narrowly misses me as she takes off, walking further toward the other end of the bar. Eggs and Weaver snicker under their breath.

"I'm having fun, Loki. You should get up here with me… live a little!"

Flaring my nostrils, I follow her, seeing more people around the clubhouse turning their attention our way. "Beatrice, so help me God, if you don't get down right now and put some fucking clothes on—"

She bursts out laughing, throwing her shirt straight into my face, temporarily blinding me.

Gripping at her shirt, I yank it away from my face again and slam it to the floor in a huff. "Dammit, Bea. What would Theo think if he saw you right now?" I snap.

Her glassy eyes turn to me, almost rolling around in her head as she sways on the spot. "Theo, my dear older brother, is not here. And I have done plenty of things without him knowing about it… haven't I, Loki?" She grins, winking at me seductively. At least, I think that's what she's going for, but in her drunken state it comes off more like she has something in her eye and is trying to blink it free.

Inhaling sharply, my cock jerks in my jeans, knowing precisely what she's insinuating. But I can't focus on that right now. I need to get her off this fucking bar.

Hayes steps up, rolling his shoulders. "Hey, VP… I didn't know she was your woman, or I wouldn't have—"

"She's not my woman, Prospect. But you should not be encouraging a girl as intoxicated as her to be stripping on the goddamn bar. That's not who Defiance is."

Hayes dips his chin. "Can I help you get her down, VP?"

I curl up my lip, disdain dripping from me. "You've done enough. Get out of my fucking sight."

Hayes hesitates but then turns and walks away while I spin back to face Bea, who has picked up a bottle of tequila and is currently drinking straight from the bottle, most of the liquid falling straight down her cleavage.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I mumble under my breath.

Moving in against the bar in front of her, I reach up, yank the bottle away from her, and hurtle it across the room, narrowly missing Rip. It smashes beside him, and he throws his hand in the air at me, giving me a hang-loose gesture and a bright smile.

Bea, however, snaps her head down at me with a frown. "Hey! I was drinking that."

"Were you, or is it all over your fucking torso?" I growl, my hands sliding up to grab her legs.

She snaps at me, her fingers flicking at my hands. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Party's over—"

"The fuck it is! I'm just getting… whoa!" she screams out as I grip her thighs, yanking her down from the bar. Her top half instantly bends, falling straight over my shoulder, her head resting right in line with my ass. I wrap my arm around her legs to keep her secure.

"Alex! You put me down, you maniac." Her legs kick out, and her fisted hands pound on the back of my thighs, but I ignore her as I march through the middle of the party. Everyone's watching, including the scrutinizing eyes of Alpha. I ignore them all as I head straight to the hall and bound up the stairs for my bedroom.

This damn woman needs to sleep this shit off.

Kicking my bedroom door open all the while, she yells and complains. I slam the door shut, and my impatience and anger are growing more and more out of control. Her body is like a fucking bucking bronco as I try to keep my grip on her, walking over to my bed. When I reach the edge of it, I hurl her onto the mattress with reckless abandon.

She flies back, like a weightless bird, hits the mattress, and bounces a few times before she stills like her head is swirling, trying to find her equilibrium. I stare at her, furious she has let herself get to this kind of uncontrolled state. But when she slowly sits and stares at me with her glassy eyes, I spot it, the red haze taking over her again.

My shoulders slump as I prepare for another round, and she lunges off the bed toward me, all flailing arms and weak movements because she's completely intoxicated. "You got no right to tell me to do stuff. Or… I don't fucking know… things and shit! You don't own me!" The words are there, but they are missing her usual flare.

Taking a constricted grip on both her arms to stop them from attacking me, I hold them tight on either side of her body. "No… I don't. But I care about you, and I don't want to see you taking your clothes off and getting fucking wasted every damn night. What happened to this was a one-time thing —"

"Fuck you! Telling me you care about me. We don't mean shit to each other, Alex. Whatever we were, it died thirteen years ago. For fuck's sake, we all died thirteen years ago."

My nostrils flair, my heart pounding as I stare into her eyes, not really knowing how to answer that.

She's right.

We did all die thirteen years ago.

Inhaling sharply, I grit my teeth. "It's no reason to strip on a clubhouse bar, Bea!"

She snorts out a laugh, trying to pull away from me again, but I hold her tighter. "Let's face it, Loki… my business is screwed. My name in the health and wellness industry will be mud. What else is left for me? I may as well resort to stripping. Hell, it sounded like the woman in the song I was dancing to made one hell of a living being a whore. Maybe I should look into that?" Her eyes flood with tears because I think she honestly believes this is what her future looks like.

"I'm gonna fix this, Bea. You're not going to end up having to sell yourself. I would never ever let you do that."

She shoves me away from her, heading for the door. "You can't promise me you're going to fix shit, Loki. You can't promise me any-fucking-thing. I should have never come to you."

Reaching out, I grip her wrist and pull her back to me, but she grits her teeth and starts flailing about again. "Just let me go, Alex. Let me go out there and forget for one night."

I pull her back to me, shaking my head as she continues to try to push me off her. "Getting drunk is not going to make the problem go away, Bea."

Tears flood her eyes, her efforts to push me away intensify, her nails digging into my arm, causing scratches and lines of blood to form. "Please, Alex… everything is so intense. I just want it to stop!"

I bring my hand up to her face to try to calm her, but all she does is push me away, shaking her head. "If you don't let me stay and party… I'll get in my car and fucking leave."

"Can't let you do that, Bea." I take a step in front of the door.

She throws her hands in the air in frustration. "You holding me hostage now? Am I your fucking prisoner? Should have figured you'd be into holding people captive. You've changed so damn much."

That stung more than I care to admit, but I know she is lashing out because she's hurting and drunk.

I need to calm this situation down.

"Just get in the bed, Bea. Sleep it off."

She widens her eyes like I have deeply offended her. "I am a strong, independent woman. I don't take orders from anyone, and especially not you!" She surges forward, racing straight for me. I sturdy my body, ready for the impact, and she jumps directly on me. I grab hold of her as her legs grip around my waist, her actions uncoordinated and frantic as her hands start pulling at me everywhere. Her nails claw at my skin as she tries to pull me away from the door.

"Motherfucker!" I've finally had enough of this bullshit. "Dammit, woman," I yell.

I have to cool her down.

She is out of control.

She desperately needs a reset.

So with her attached to me, screaming some bullshit against my ear that I can't even understand, I make way for the adjoined bathroom, kicking open the door. Then, with all my might, I shove her off me into the alcove of the shower. Her ass falls to the tiles with a thud, her back hitting the wall as she cowers in the corner, letting out a huff.

"The fuck, Alex!" she yells.

Glaring down at her, I reach for the faucet, her eyes going wide as saucers as I flip on the cold water. It rains on top of her in a stream, drenching her clothes and all. She gasps, her hands thrusting up to cover her face as she cradles herself into a small ball. Her breathing quickens, her body trembling as I begin to hear the sounds of soft whimpering.

Moving to the side a little so I can get a better view of her face from beneath her hands, tears clearly stream down her face while a wave of panic overcomes her as she nestles on the bottom of the shower, trembling as she has finally realized she's losing it. Her body wracks with sobs, curling into a tight ball as if to hide herself from me.

The sight of her falling apart is my undoing, and without hesitation, I step into the shower, boots, clothes, leather cut, and all. I squat down beside her, sheltering her from the water. The harsh, cold pummels my back as I pull her to me. Bea instinctively slides her arms around my neck, her whole body merging with mine as I pull us to the other side of the shower out of the stream of water.

I hold her so fucking tight, her body shaking against mine, sitting with her in my lap, cradling Bea to my chest, holding onto her for dear life as tears fall down her face as steady as the shower flows.

My heart races hard enough that my chest hurts. My hand reaches out, almost on its own, and I gently cup her cheek, my thumb brushing against her soft skin. "Please don't cry," I whisper.

Sniffling, her eyes slowly lift to look at me, defeat heavy in her gaze. "I… I feel lost, Alex."

Choking down the tension building inside me, I gently nod. "I know... I know exactly how that feels, Bea. But this, this shit isn't you. Drinking yourself into oblivion night after night."

She drops her gaze from me like she's ashamed. "I didn't plan it."

"Plan what?"

"To get drunk again… it wasn't even on my mind. But then when you figured out I caused the breach, and then you pulled away from kissing me—"

"You got drunk because I didn't kiss you?" I glare at her.

Bea slowly glances back up at me again, her eyes somber. "I broke us. I know that. I just thought with the way we were looking at each other today and then that moment in the hall…" She pauses, pain clearly evident on her face. "But I read it wrong. I'm so sorry. I should go." She immediately tries to stand from my grip, but I pull her back into my lap.

My hand slides up into her wet hair, forcing her to look at me. "I haven't stopped thinking about kissing you all day, Bea."

Her eyes, those same eyes that hold my heart captive, flicker with the exact emotions I'm feeling. Suppressing her emotion, her breath hitches. The rapid rise and fall of her chest tell me she's just as anxious as I am right now. We're saying so much without words—the space between us is charged with unspoken longing. That usual spark, that fire, that adrenaline surging, makes me burn inside, even though the chill from the water should be causing me to shiver by now.

"Bea," I whisper, my voice husky with emotion.

Her eyes close for a moment, leaning into my touch, and when they open again, they're filled with unshed tears. "Alex," she breathes out, my name a soft plea.

I can't hold back any longer.

It's too hard.

Slowly, I lean in, giving her a chance to pull away. But she doesn't. She meets me halfway, the electricity around us surging out of control.

When our lips finally touch…

… it's like coming home.

A thousand memories flood my mind, playing through my head, including every beautiful, blissful moment I ever had with Bea, reminding me why I fell in love with her in the first place.

The kiss is tentative at first, almost timid, but it quickly deepens. Thirteen years of separation dissolve in an instant. Her hands grip my club cut, pulling me closer, and I can taste the salt of her tears mingling with our kiss.

The world fades away.

All our worries.

All the chaos that we've been through.

It leaves just us, wrapped in a moment I've dreamed of for so long.

Bea's lips are warm, familiar, yet new. There's a desperation in our kiss, a need to make up for lost time, to rediscover what we once had. My heart pounds in my chest, and her fingers tangle in my hair, grounding me in the reality of this moment.

A soft moan leaves her lips as her tongue dances with mine. My cock instantly hardens. The feeling of her nose ring reminds me that she's all woman now, not the young teen I knew. We have grown so much since then. We have such a huge past and issues we need to deal with. Part of that is the reason she's here with me now—drunk—and I realize I need to cool this down.

I remember how easily we get caught up in each other, and Bea is intoxicated. I don't want us to go any further tonight, not while she isn't completely in control of her senses.

Regretfully, I slowly begin to pull back, breathless and a little unsteady, our foreheads resting against each other. Her eyes search mine, and I witness the same mixture of hope and fear reflected back at me.

Everything has changed now.

Theo still doesn't know about us, and the app is a problem we need to fix. Not to mention, there are issues from our past that we will need to talk about.

But for now, there's only one truth that matters.

Weakly smiling at her, I stare into her beautiful eyes. "I've missed you," I whisper honestly.

Finally, a bright smile crosses her face, and she lets out the most harmonious giggle. "Me, too," she replies, her voice trembling. "So, so much."

We sit on the shower floor, holding each other, the past and future converging in this single, perfect moment. And for the first time in years, I feel like maybe everything will work out for us. With my hands running up and down Bea's bare arms, her goose bumps alert me to the fact she's cold. Leaning in, I press a tender kiss to her shoulder and let out a long sigh. "I hate seeing you drunk like this, Bea. I need you to sober up. No more drinking like this… promise me?"

Her bottom lip trembles, and she nods, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her face.

I reach up, wiping them from her cheeks, and then lift her with me as I stand in the shower. "C'mon. Let's get you warm."

She sniffles, wrapping her arms around me as I lean back, turning off the faucet. Then, stepping out of the alcove and into the bathroom, I stand Bea in front of the basin in her drenched bra and shorts, reaching for a towel as I kick off my boots.

She stays silent as I place the towel on the basin beside her, then shuck off my club cut. Bea watches me intently as I place it neatly over the top of the shower alcove so it will dry overnight. Moving to my shirt, I draw it over my head, the wet fabric sticking to my abs as I slide it up. She bites her bottom lip, remaining silent as I toss the wet shirt into the hamper and then make a move for my belt. Her eyes widen while I unbuckle, drawing my jeans down over my ass and revealing my bare cock to her.

Bea averts her eyes, a slow smile creeping across her face, and I inevitably smirk as I toss the remainder of my clothes over to the basket. Reaching past her, her breathing hitches as I grab the towel and then fold it around my waist to cover myself.

She clears her throat, still averting her gaze while I step up to her. Her breathing increases as I slide my hands up her arms. Those goose bumps are still there, and I shrug. "You've got to get out of these wet clothes, Bea."

She finally glances at me, forcing down the emotion caught in her throat, and nods. "Then I guess in my inebriated state, you better help me."

A slow smirk crosses my lips, and I slide my hands around her back, swiftly unhooking her wet-as- fuck bra. It unhooks with ease, and I slowly slide the straps down her delicate shoulders, revealing her now ample-sized breasts. My cock instantly jerks under the towel, and I'm glad I had the forethought to cover myself before undressing her.

She's exceptionally beautiful!

I never thought I would see her again, let alone have a moment like this with her.

Actually, for a moment, I wonder if I am dreaming.

I trail my fingers to the top button of her shorts, popping the button and gripping the hem. Yanking on her shorts, I pull them down, squatting with the movement, then draw them down to her ankles, leaving her in just a pair of panties with Care Bears on them.

I let out a small chuckle. Yeah, definitely not dreaming. She peers down, and her eyes widen. "Oh shit. I forgot I was wearing those!"

I lean in, running my fingers to the sides of her panties, and grip tight. "I happen to think they suit you perfectly," I murmur, then lean in, pressing my lips to her thigh, right next to her panties, causing her legs to wobble ever so slightly. She inhales sharply as my eyes stare up, meeting hers. The energy around us ignites once again as I edge her panties slowly down her still-trembling legs.

Her eyes stay on mine the entire time as I strip her naked, tapping her ankle for her to step out of her panties. She swallows hard, her entire body quivering as I slowly rise, towering over her again. I can't stop looking down at her delectable body. The way her short but curvy frame accentuates in the most perfect places.

She was gorgeous when we were younger.

But now, as a woman, she's a fucking marvel to behold.

And if she wasn't drunk right now, I would be taking full advantage.

The problem is she is, and it's not something I would forgive myself for doing. Though my cock has a different opinion on the matter, and he is frustrated with me right now.

With her looking at me like she wants to devour every inch of me, I step forward, reaching for another towel off the rack, and with every ounce of strength I have, I gently wrap it around her shoulders. Her brows rise, a moment of understanding and disappointment flowing through her, but then she offers an attempted half-smile. My hands slide out, still wanting to touch her, not wanting to let this connection go.

I grab the towel and begin to dry her body.

Shaking her head, Bea lets out a small laugh. "You always did take care of me."

Needing her to understand, to know I am not lying, I release a deep exhale, staring deep into her eyes. "I'll always take care of you, Bea. You're a part of my life, whether we see each other or not… I just can't let you go."

She reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me. "I don't ever want you to let me go."

My heart races, and I have no choice as I lean in, pressing my lips to hers again, firmer this time. My hand grips into her hair as I push her back against the basin, and she whimpers, her hands sliding up. Her nails dig into the skin on my back with the same desperation I feel, causing me to groan into her mouth. The towel around my waist drops to the floor, my cock so hard, I can barely control myself.

But I know I have to.

Regretfully, I step back, panting while she smirks, knowing how much she is affecting me. Her chest rises and falls heavily with her own frantic breaths. "So… what now?" she asks, a hint of mischief in her tone.

Groaning, I run my fingers through my hair, yanking out my hair tie, letting my long, wet hair flow free. It drops over my shoulders, and she pulls her lip in over her teeth, trying to fight her grin.

"Now… we go to bed. You need to rest. You're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow… again."

Bea giggles, her fingers trailing one by one down my torso. "I'm feeling very sober right now."

I grip her wrist, stopping her descent. "Bed. Now ."

She snickers, yanking her arm free, then turns, walking out of the bathroom, making sure to sway that sexy ass of hers for good measure.

Fuck. I'm so in over my head here.

"I think I like this bossy side of you. In the bedroom anyway," she taunts, glancing over her shoulder, then climbs into my bed, completely naked.

Clenching my eyes, I somehow find inner strength. Then I open them again and make my way over to the bed, sliding in beside her. Lying on my back, I open my arm for her to cuddle into me, and she does. Just like we always used to. Her eyes instantly turn lazy. The alcohol is hitting hard now, and the adrenaline is wearing off.

She cuddles into me completely as I pull the covers over us and press a kiss to her head.

"Thank you, Alex… I mean it."

Finally, I feel like I can relax, and I let the moment consume me.

I'm here, in bed, with Bea after thirteen years apart, and I have just kissed the hell out of her.

It felt right.

Like it's meant to be.

Maybe relationships are like tech—sometimes you have to walk away from something to come back to it with a clearer head. And maybe being away from Bea for thirteen years will give us the clear head we need to have our reset.

I don't know.

There's still so much we need to discuss.

Tonight is not the night.

I need to talk to her when Bea can think clearly.

A soft snoring breaks my thoughts, and I peer down to see Bea completely out for the count. Chuckling, my fingers thread through her still-damp hair, and I carefully reach over, flipping off the side light and sending the room into darkness.

I've waited what feels like an eternity for her to be in my arms again, so I think I'm going to have a fucking great night's sleep tonight. Gently kissing her hair again, I get comfortable, then close my eyes, silently thanking whoever brought her back into my life.

Maybe things do have a way of working out.