The house was already too warm, too loud, the kind of party where every surface vibrated with bass and spilled beer. Lights from a cheap string of Christmas bulbs blinked red, green, red again, throwing everyone into strange, flickering versions of themselves.

Eddie had lost you somewhere between the kitchen and the living room, dragged into a loud debate with Jeff and Gareth about which Metallica album actually mattered. You’d ended up on the other side of the room with Nancy and Robin, nursing a drink and laughing about something Robin was whispering far too dramatically.

Eddie leaned against the wall, half-listening to his friends—until he saw you tilt your head back when you laughed.

That was it. That was the only thing he needed to watch.

Then a girl slid into his space.

She was bold about it, hair flipping, hand landing on his arm like she’d known him longer than five minutes. Eddie noticed immediately. Not because he cared—but because he knew exactly what would happen if you noticed.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t step away.

Didn’t shut it down.

Instead, he let his eyes drift back across the room to you.

Like he was waiting.

The girl said something in his ear. He barely registered it. He was too busy tracking the moment your laughter died off, the second your gaze shifted from Robin…to him.

Your eyes narrowed.

Just a little.

Across the room, you raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Not angry.

Not yet.

Just a clear, silent message: Handle her. Or I will.

Eddie’s lips twitched.

He stayed exactly where he was.

Because honestly?

He loved this part.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached out and handed your drink to Billy as he passed by, not even bothering to explain. Then you started across the house.

The music seemed to fade as you moved through the crowd with purpose.

The random girl was still talking when you arrived, still leaning too close, still unaware she’d already lost.

You didn’t say a word.

You simply slid neatly between them, one hand finding Eddie’s jacket, the other cupping his cheek as you pressed a slow, deliberate kiss there.

When you pulled back, a perfect pair of ruby red lips bloomed against his skin.

Mine.

The girl stared.

Then scoffed. “I’m so sorry,” she said sweetly. “I didn’t know you owned him. He wasn’t wearing a collar.”

You turned to her, calm as ice.

Met her eyes.

“Because that’s strictly bedroom use.”

Eddie choked his beer.

You hooked two fingers into the front of his belt buckle and pulled him away from her without another glance, steering him straight back toward Nancy and Robin.

Once you were clear, Eddie finally spoke, voice low and amused. “You know,” he said, “I could’ve handled that.”

You glanced up at him. “But you didn’t.”

His grin widened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Didn’t want to.”