Instead, I rounded the table and got behind her chair, yanking it back and tipping it forward.
“Hey!” She spilled out and landed flat on her feet, whipping around to put her chest flush with mine and her back to Demitri and his brother. A scrunch to her pert nose was the only warning she gave before planting both hands on my pecs and shoving.
The only person who fell was her.
When I didn’t budge, she toppled into Demitri who caught her as she propelled herself back with her own force. Flames blazed a violent pathway across her eyes, a burnt orange wildfire searing forests to embers and ash.
She pulled herself back up, the masculine hands on her waist allowing her to slip free as she stepped forward.
Idiot.
You never let a woman like Scarlett Avery out of your arms unless you were prepared to run for shelter next.
By her sides, Scarlett’s tiny hands curled into even smaller fists, shaking, trembling.
“Is staying to have one more drink really that big of a deal?” She huffed and puffed her chest, squinting her eyes and cocking her head. “Or do you just not like that Demitri's here?”
“Your little boyfriend isn’t my problem,” I snarled back, hating the word, hating him, hating what she was doing to us right now because pushing me to break was the only way she knew how not to.
“Well, this is interesting,” Alec fucking Vitalis murmured, shaded-focus on Scarlett and I.
“No, we both know what your problem is, James. Your real problem,” she kept on, starting my way in purposeful steps. “You’re hiding. You’re hiding, and you’re not even doing a very good job at it because I see you. I see what makes your jaw tick. What makes your eyes blacken.”
Lavender assaulted my breathable air as she came right beneath me and whispered, “What makes your cock hard.”
Right on fucking command, it did just that.
Furious heat clung to the sides of my face and strangled my throat. I needed to get us out of here before both of our blood-thirsty demons spiraled in tandem.
“Stop talking, and go get your ass in the car.”
“No, James. I want a drink. I want to stay and get shit-faced just because I can. Because it is my right to get shit-faced on cheap champagne at a corner-side cafe at twelve in the afternoon if I want to!”
“Lower your goddamn voice,” I chewed out through gnashed teeth, feeling the eyes of the Vitalis brothers hot on my face. “You’re upset, and I get it, but you're making a scene.”
She bristled back, shock rounding her eyes. “You think this is a scene?”
A tune of ‘oh fuck’ started playing on repeat in my head as Scarlett frowned her pretty mouth at me and backed away.
“Why are your standards so low, James?” she tsked and retreated toward a table in the corner.
“Red, maybe you should—”
Demitri’s shit attempt was cut short as Scarlett made quick enemies with the middle-aged couple at the corner table trying to enjoy their day. Their bellows as she swiped the woman’s quarter-full champagne glass drew more eyes, staff milling about outside.
“Is there a problem here?” Our waitress appeared, her previous megawatt smile dimmed in unease.
“No,” I threw over my shoulder as I stomped Scarlett’s way. “She’s giving the drink back.”
My redhead squished her mouth to the side, brows furrowing dramatically.
“That sounds out of character for me.”
Reaching her, I clasped her wrist in the grip of my hand, yanking her into me. She stumbled until she was in my chest, the stolen glass of champagne clutched between us.
“Scarlett, do not do this now.”
Her delicate neck curved back beneath me. “It’s now or never,” she breathed like she didn’t have a choice.