Savior

Adrian’s POV

Claire was still watching me when I locked the phone. Her smile stayed polite but her eyes had sharpened.

“Well?” she asked. “Who keeps pulling your attention away from the room?”

“No one important,” I said.

“It looked important. You were smiling at the screen.”

“I smile at a lot of things.”

She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Your father is watching us. He’ll expect you to spend the rest of the evening with me. You know that, right?”

I glanced past her. My father stood near the far windows with Claire’s father, both of them looking in our direction. The disapproval on my father’s face was clear even from across the room. He wanted a performance. He wanted me focused on Claire and nothing else.

Claire touched my arm. “Come on. One more conversation with them and then we can find somewhere quieter. You’ve barely spoken to me tonight.”

“I’ve spoken enough.”

“You’re in a strange mood.” She kept her hand on my arm. “Is something going on? You’ve been distracted since you got here.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. You seem like you’d rather be somewhere else.”

I looked at her for a second and decided there was no point pretending. “You’re right. I would.”

Her expression tightened. “That’s rude.”

“It’s honest.”

My father’s gaze stayed locked on me. The weight of it pushed against the last of my patience. I stepped back from Claire, set my half-finished drink on a nearby table, and turned toward the exit.

“Adrian,” she called after me. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

I did not wait for her reply or my father’s reaction. I crossed the ballroom, ignored the few people who tried to stop me, and pushed through the main doors into the cooler night air. The second I was outside I pulled in a deep breath and kept walking. I had no real plan except getting away from the suits and the expectations and the girl my father kept trying to place beside me.

My feet carried me toward the campus bar district without much thought. I told myself I only wanted a drink somewhere loud enough to drown out the evening. The fact that Elias worked at one of the bars was secondary. Or at least that was what I repeated until I reached the familiar front entrance.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The first thing I saw was Elias behind the counter, face tight with anger, as his hand connected hard with another man’s wrist. The man yanked his arm back with a sharp curse.

“What the hell is your problem?” the man snapped.

“I told you not to touch me,” Elias said, voice low and steady. “Three times.”

“You little…”

The man shoved his stool back and stood, taller than Elias by a couple of inches. His face had gone red. “You think you can put your hands on me?”

Elias did not back up. “You put your hands on me first. Get out.”

“Or what?”

The man swung. It was messy and drunk, but it was still a fist aimed at Elias’s face. I moved before I finished thinking. I crossed the space in a few long steps, caught the man’s arm, and shoved him hard enough that he stumbled into the next stool.

“That’s enough,” I said.

The man turned on me, breathing heavily. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s telling you to leave.”

“This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does now.” I kept myself between him and Elias. “He asked you to stop. You didn’t. Now you’re trying to hit him. Walk away while you still can.”

Elias’s voice came from behind me, tight. “Adrian, I can handle this.”

“I know,” I said without looking back. “I’m handling it anyway.”

The man looked from me to Elias and then back again. “You two know each other?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “You’re done here.”

He took a step forward like he might try again. I held my ground. Around us a few customers had turned to watch, and one of the other bartenders was already moving toward the phone.

The man pointed a finger at Elias. “You’re lucky.”

“Get out,” I repeated.

He muttered another curse, grabbed his jacket, and pushed past a couple of stools on his way to the door. The second it closed behind him the low noise of the bar slowly returned.

I turned to face Elias. He was still tense, jaw set, eyes hard.

“You didn’t have to step in,” he said.

“I know.”

“I had it under control.”

“Looked like he was about to test that.”

Elias wiped his hands on the towel at his waist and finally met my eyes. “What are you even doing here?”

“Needed a drink,” I said. “Didn’t like the party.”

“So you came to my bar.”

“Looks that way.”

He stared at me for a long second, something complicated moving behind his expression. Then he exhaled and glanced toward the door the man had used.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

I almost smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Elias shook his head and turned back to the counter like he needed something to do with his hands. “My shift ends in twenty minutes. If you’re staying, sit down and don’t start anything else.”

“I’ll wait.”

He gave me a look that said he already regretted the offer, but he did not take it back. I took an empty stool a few seats down and watched him work. The remaining time passed quietly. When he finally untied his apron and came around the counter, he nodded toward the door.

“Come on. I don’t want to stay here longer than I have to.”

We stepped out into the cooler night air together.

The street looked empty. I had just opened my mouth to say something when a body slammed into Elias from the side with zero warning.

“What?! Who are…”

The same customer from inside had been waiting in the dark.

He hit Elias hard enough to knock him into the wall.

“Elias!”

Then the man turned and swung wild at me with a broken bottle in his hand.