Amber

Chapter 27: I Shouldn't Feel This Way

(Amber's POV )

I had never seen Adrian like that before.

He wasn't just angry.

He wasn't just jealous.

He was furious. Possessive. Dangerous.

And it scared me.

—

Damien was still smirking as he rubbed his jaw, but even he looked slightly shaken.

Adrian had moved fast.

Too fast.

One second, they were arguing.

The next, Adrian had slammed him against a desk like it was nothing.

Like he had been waiting for an excuse to lose control.

And the worst part?

When Adrian finally let him go, his golden eyes flickered toward me, searching my face.

Like he wanted to see what I thought of him now.

And I hated that I didn't know the answer.

—

"Are you okay?" I asked Damien softly.

He tilted his head. "Are you asking because you care, or because you're trying to piss off lover boy over there?"

I flushed. "You're bleeding."

Damien touched his forehead, glancing at the smear of blood on his fingers. "Huh. Guess he got me good."

Adrian exhaled sharply. "Don't act so surprised."

I shot him a glare. "Seriously?"

Adrian met my gaze, his expression unreadable. "What?"

I clenched my jaw. "You could've actually hurt him!"

His golden eyes darkened. "I should've."

Damien chuckled. "I think I liked him better when he was all mysterious and broody."

Adrian turned toward him instantly. "I swear to god, Damien—"

I stepped between them.

"Enough," I snapped.

They both froze.

And for the first time all day, I felt like I actually had control.

—

I turned back to Damien. "Come on. I have a first aid kit in my locker."

I could feel Adrian's gaze burning into me.

But I ignored it.

Because right now, I was too mad.

Too frustrated.

And maybe, just maybe—

I wanted to make him jealous, too.

—

Damien and I walked to my locker in silence.

But the second we got there, he sighed.

"So, are you actually mad at him?" he asked.

I frowned. "Obviously."

Damien leaned against the wall. "Or are you just mad because you didn't hate it?"

I froze.

"Excuse me?"

He smirked. "Come on, Amber. He went all territorial caveman over you, and now you're giving me first aid right in front of him? You're playing with fire."

I clenched my jaw. "I just don't want your forehead to get infected."

Damien chuckled. "Right. Sure."

I scowled. "Can you stop talking?"

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

I shoved him.

—

I was just about to dab antiseptic on Damien's forehead when a shadow fell over us.

My stomach tightened.

Because I already knew who it was.

I looked up slowly.

And there he was.

Adrian.

Standing there, watching.

His jaw was tight.

His golden eyes were burning.

And he was furious.

—

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he muttered.

I sighed. "I'm cleaning his wound, Adrian. Relax."

Adrian exhaled slowly. "I told you to stay away from him."

I clenched my jaw. "You don't control me."

He stepped closer. "Then why do you always listen when I call?"

I flushed. "I don't!"

Damien chuckled. "She kinda does."

Adrian's eyes snapped to him instantly.

"Shut up, Damien," he growled.

Damien smirked. "Jealous?"

I held my breath.

Because Adrian didn't answer.

And that told me everything.

—

I turned back to Damien, ignoring the way my hands shook slightly.

I dabbed the antiseptic onto his cut, forcing myself to focus.

But the second my fingers brushed against Damien's skin—

Adrian grabbed my wrist.

"Enough," he muttered.

I gasped. "Adrian, let go!"

He didn't.

His jaw was tight. His golden eyes were burning.

Like he was this close to losing control again.

—

Damien sighed. "Here we go again."

Adrian turned toward him sharply. "You think this is a joke?"

Damien tilted his head. "I think you need to get a grip."

Adrian let out a short, sharp laugh.

Then—

He yanked me away from Damien.

—

I gasped.

"What the hell, Adrian?" I snapped, trying to pull away.

He held on.

His grip wasn't painful.

But it was firm. Unyielding.

"You want to help him?" he muttered, voice low. "Fine. But don't do it in front of me."

I blinked. "Why does it matter?"

His golden eyes met mine.

"Because it does."

—

My heart stopped.

Because he wasn't teasing.

He wasn't smirking.

He wasn't playing games.

Adrian Blackwood was jealous.

Actually, dangerously, possessively jealous.

And the worst part?

I didn't hate it.

—

I swallowed hard. "Adrian…"

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Forget it."

Then, before I could say another word—

Before I could ask him what the hell we were even doing—

He let go.

And walked away.

—

I stood there, stunned.

Because for the first time since I met him—

I wasn't sure if I had won or lost.

And I hated it.

—