Page 2 of The Bittersweet Bond

They didn’t get her. None of them ever had.

There had been guys. But each one worse than the last.

Like that idiot Carter in ninth grade, who had no idea what to do when she cried during a movie and told her she was “too much.”

Or Matt, who claimed he liked strong girls but panicked the first time she raised her voice.

They wanted her smile, her beauty, her attention, but the moment she became complicated, the moment it got messy or real, they bailed.

They didn’t see it.

But Bas did.

He saw the sharp edges and the softness underneath. The way she burned bright and broke quietly.

And no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he knew: He was the only one who ever really could handle her.

And still… he hadn’t tried.

Because deep down, he was just as much of a coward as the rest of them.

Letting her go was easier than standing up to the voice in his head that sounded a hell of a lot like his father’s.

The constant push and pull between his own feelings and everyone else’s judgment was what made her so dangerously fascinating to him.

And that was exactly why he kept trying to push her away. The voices against Evin had always been too loud.

He knew he should do exactly what Cat said: let go and suppress.

But it wasn’t that easy.

Because some part of him, deep inside, wanted her to see him. To drop the act, to turn around and come to him.

Cat fit. She was easy, predictable, a perfect picture.

The kind of girl who didn’t demand more than he was willing to give. A girl who didn’t try to change him.

But before he had even begun to regain control of himself, the image of that guy’s hand on Evin’s shoulder flared up in his mind again. And with it irrational anger.

And the moment she stepped away, probably toward Milka, Bas noticed—this was all he needed.

Maybe this guy needs a lesson.Bas projected his frustration onto him, like he was the reason for the chaos inside him.

Yeah! Who the hell does he think he is?

With a quiet breath Bas let his hand slip from Cat’s shoulder. Slowly he moved toward the drinks table, keeping it casual, until he was close enough.

Then, without a hint of hesitation, hebumpedinto the guy.

A precise, controlled shove—strong enough to throw him off balance.

"What the hell, man?" The guy tried to play it cool, but Bas caught the slight waver in his voice.

"Watch where you’re standing," Bas replied calmly. His words were casual.

The guy squared his shoulders, crossing his arms as he twisted his face into a challenging expression. "What’s your problem, dude?"

Bas let out a chuckle, cold and humorless. Then he stepped in closer, narrowing the space between them.

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