"You are."
I want to argue.Want to tell him he's wrong.But the way he's looking at me makes it hard to breathe.
"Why are you doing this?"I ask."Why are you helping me?You barely know me."
He sets his plate on the coffee table and turns to face me."You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"I've been watching you since the day I moved in.Noticing you.Wanting to talk to you but respecting the fact that you clearly wanted to be left alone.And then I saw you in that parking lot, and I knew.I knew you were in trouble.I knew you needed help.And I knew I wasn't going to walk away."
"Why?"
"Because you're mine."
The words hang in the air between us.
"I don't belong to anyone," I say.
"That's not what I meant."He leans closer."I mean you're mine to protect.Mine to take care of.Mine to make sure no one ever hurts again."
"You can't promise that."
"Watch me."
And then he's kissing me.
It's different from the kiss last night.Less desperate.More deliberate.Like he's savoring it.Savoring me.
I should pull away.Should tell him that I'm too broken for this.
But I don't.
Instead, I kiss him back. I want the memory of him.
His hands go to my waist, pulling me closer, and I let him.I let him because I'm tired of fighting.Tired of being alone.Tired of pretending I don't want this.
I want him.
His mouth moves to my jaw, my neck, and I tip my head back to give him access.His hands slide under my shirt, fingers splaying across my ribs, and I arch into the touch.
"Carla," he says against my skin."Tell me to stop."
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He pulls back just enough to look at me."If we do this, there's no going back.You understand that?"
"I understand."
"I'm not going to be some rebound.Some guy you use to forget about him."
"You're not."
"Then what am I?"
