Haven Bound

7. Austin

7

Austin

Seeing the sudden panic that crossed Chelsea’s face immediately set me on edge as I watched her quickly walk away from me inside the club. I didn’t know if her panic had been my doing or was from something else entirely. Either way, all I had wanted at that moment was to get her alone and make sure she was alright. This woman has no idea the hold she has over me. Even after seven years apart, I still feel this unavoidable pull towards her whenever she’s near.

I admittedly was lost in her presence and the music, and for a few minutes I found myself imagining that I’d never left. Imagining that I had never walked away from her. Even if the reason I left was solely for her safety, she doesn’t know that. I’m sure she probably thinks that I abandoned her without a second thought.

Fuck if that isn’t so damn far from the truth.

When a few minutes had passed without her returning from the restroom, a deep sick feeling began to settle in my gut. I figured she may have gone outside to get some air, but I never could have anticipated finding her struggling against some asshole’s grasp. I refuse to let this go. I will find out who he is, but first I need to make sure that Chelsea is safe.

Unwrapping my arms from around her body, I step back and reach up to cup her beautiful face in my palm, stroking my thumb across her cheek as I ask, “You’re sure you’re alright?” Her green eyes are wet with unshed tears as they search mine. She releases a shaky breath and nods. I can’t help but pull her curvy body back against mine. She doesn’t resist. She just buries her face into my chest and wraps her arms around my waist.

In return, I tighten my arms around her and suppress a groan as I inhale her sweet vanilla scent.

As much as I’d love to keep her luscious body pressed against mine, I know that it’s not a good idea. Inside the club, surrounded by a sea of people and lost in the music with her ass grinding against my hardening cock, it was all too easy to forget why I’d come back to town. I need to get her home, and then I need to focus on my latest assignment. I can’t afford to get swept away in her.

Not now, not ever.

Letting her go, I reach behind my back to grab one of her hands in mine so that she’s forced to unwrap her arms from my waist. “Come on,” I urge, releasing her hand and wrapping an arm around her shoulder to tuck her in at my side as I lead us towards the dark green Wrangler that’s parked on the side street of the club.

I open the passenger side door for her, my hand leaving the small of her back as she climbs in. With her back to me, I take a moment and admire her delicious curves and thick thighs, wishing I could worship her body the way she deserves.

She’s staring out the front windshield as I’m climbing into the driver's seat beside her. I get the vehicle started before I pull my phone out to text Ethan and let him know that I’m taking her home .

Chelsea remains silent as I pull out onto the street while the band Bring Me The Horizon plays through the Wrangler’s speakers. She doesn’t need to talk to me. Not yet. But I do need to know that she’s alright.

“I can bring you back to Ethan’s with me, or I can take you home,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice calm. Her hands are balled into fists so tightly that her knuckles are white, her fingernails surely digging into her palms and creating little crescent-shaped indentations. Tension is radiating off of her body and coating the air around us in a thick haze.

“Sunflower,” I coax, reaching across the center console to place my hand on her thigh, trying to get her attention with the use of my old nickname for her. Her body visibly relaxes as her green gaze meets mine.

“Sorry…. What?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t apologize.” I pull my hand away from her thigh and place it back on the steering wheel. “I said that I can take you home, or you can come back to Ethan’s place with me.” Her plump bottom lip catches between her teeth, her eyes searching mine before she sits back in her seat and stares out the front windshield.

The near-constant travel that working with the Phoenix Legion entails makes it almost impossible to set up a home base. I’ve never allowed myself to care or even entertain the idea of having a home since I left Haven Beach, but fuck does being in Chelsea’s presence make me want to dream. She has no idea that it’s visions of her that have kept me from being completely immersed in darkness over the years.

“Is it okay if I come with you? I don’t know when Hailey will be home, and… I don’t really wanna be there by myself.” Her sweet voice pulls me from my wandering thoughts, grounding me. Something must have scared the shit out of her if she is afraid to go home. I can’t help but want to annihilate any threat she faces.

“Of course, Chels. I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

That’s a lie.

I really shouldn’t be offering to bring her back to Ethan’s place, where I’m currently staying. I shouldn’t be offering anything that could embed her into my life.

Yet not even twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up to Ethan’s rental place, a townhouse with three bedrooms and a single-car garage. As the owner of Stolen Hearts Ink, he does pretty well for himself. He employs two other talented artists, and they all keep pretty busy schedules. He also makes it a point to take on other design projects outside of tattoo work.

Over the years, he’s run point on quite a few design projects for my sister, Hailey, the Elysian Suites Event Coordinator, though we don’t have him on the official payroll. Not that I haven’t offered. Ethan is the kind of person who would rather stumble through life finding his own way than accept help, something I greatly admire about him, and I know that it’s in part due to his upbringing.

Chelsea follows me inside, her sweet vanilla scent completely enveloping me as we step through the entryway. As a bachelor, Ethan’s home isn’t very decorated. The living room has a large dark brown sectional that faces a wall-mounted television and an entertainment center that houses his video game and movie collection. There aren’t many pictures of family or friends, but there are several art pieces hanging on the wall .

“Can I make you something to eat?” I offer Chelsea as I head for the kitchen. The fridge is thankfully stocked with a decent selection of drinks. I grab out a bottle of water for myself and a bottle of peach iced tea for her. She and Ethan have always shared an obsession for fruit-flavored drinks that I don’t understand. Anything fruit-flavored just ends up tasting like candy to me.

“You cook?” she asks, sliding onto one of the barstools at the counter as I hand her the fruity drink and move to open the small pantry.

"I learned in college. I couldn’t stand to eat any more of those cheap pre-made frozen meals and as much as I love a good burger, after a while, all the fast food joints start to taste the same. Nothing compares to a good home-cooked meal." I’m rambling, but I need to fill the silence. If I don't, thoughts of making her my next meal will completely take over my mind.

"Okay. Surprise me, Chef," she teases, and I find a smirk playing across her lips when I turn around with a box of cavatappi pasta. She’s always been the talented one when it comes to baking, but I do know my way around the kitchen too.

It would seem as though she feels the need to fill the silence as well, but her voice sounds more steady than it did in the car so that must mean she’s relaxed a bit. "Do you remember in high school when we’d pretend to have our own cooking show, and we’d add seasonings and stuff to those boxed pasta dishes?"

I could never forget anything about you .

“You pretty much just added garlic powder and pepper to everything,” I tease .

“You can never have too much garlic! It’s the reigning champion of all seasonings.” I don’t necessarily disagree, but it’s fun seeing her all riled up.

There’s a weight in my chest that has me aching for a past I should’ve had and a future that I never will.