The music was too loud, the lights too dim, and the air inside Steve’s house thick with heat and cheap beer. It was one of those Hawkins parties that felt like it might tip into chaos at any second—but for now, it was just loud, crowded, and buzzing.

Billy leaned against the kitchen counter with Tommy and a couple of the guys, half-listening to whatever story was being told. Across the room, you were wedged between Nancy and Robin, laughing over something Robin had said, your drink sweating in your hand.

That’s when she appeared.

Too close. Too confident.

Billy noticed her the second she slid into his space, flipping her hair like she’d practiced it in the mirror. She said something in his ear, hand brushing his arm like it belonged there.

He didn’t respond.

Not really.

He didn’t look at her, didn’t smile, didn’t lean in. Instead, his eyes drifted—straight across the room.

To you.

He knew that look on your face better than he knew his own reflection.

You were mid-laugh when you glanced over, just a casual check-in.

And then you saw her.

The way her hand lingered. The way she leaned in. The way Billy hadn’t moved her away.

Your smile vanished.

Slowly, deliberately, you raised one eyebrow.

Not dramatic. Not loud.

Just a silent, dangerous: Handle her. Or I will.

Billy’s mouth twitched.

He didn’t move.

Because the truth? He loved this part.

You turned, handed your drink to Eddie without taking your eyes off him.

“Hold this,” you said flatly.

Eddie blinked. “Oh. Someone’s about to die.”

You crossed the room with purpose.

Billy watched you come like a storm he refused to dodge.

You slid perfectly between him and the girl, fitting into his space like you were designed to be there. Without a word, you reached up, cupped his jaw, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

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

A mark.

A claim.

A very clear: Mine.

The girl scoffed, folding her arms. “Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you owned him. He wasn’t exactly wearing a collar.”

The room around you seemed to fade.

You turned slowly.

Met her eyes.

Didn’t blink.

“Because,” you said calmly, voice sweet as poison, “that’s strictly bedroom use.”

Billy choked on his beer.

You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him with you toward Nancy and Robin without another glance back.

As you passed, Billy leaned down, murmuring against your ear, amused and utterly unrepentant.

“You handled her.”

You shot him a look. “You’re welcome.”

He grinned like he’d won something.