“Stop that!” I stomp like I’m a five year old throwing atantrum after having to share something she doesn’t want to. Rowan Asher is mine.
Damn him.Anddamn me!
He isn’t mine. But he is. Always has been.
“Natalia?” The torrential tide in his ocean eyes calms into smaller waves. He patiently waits for me to speak, his expression calm and neutral—annoyingly unbothered. I need him as bothered as I am. I need himfuriouswith me. “Sweetheart?—”
“No!” I snap again. “I saw you!”
Rowan pushes away from the threshold, standing and towering over me with his hands in the pockets of his navy pants. “Natalia.”
“What!”My hands fly around me dramatically while he remains standing there—unaffected. “I saw you with her.”
“Yousent me on a date.”
“Okay, but I’m an idiot. You’re supposed to be the smart one!”
“You’re jealous,” he say with a smirk, his blue eyes darkening to midnight.
“I. Am not.Jealous!” I seethe.
“You’re jealous,” Rowan says again, calmly.
“I’m not jealous!”
He stands straighter, stepping closer and invading my space—overriding all my senses. “Tell me why you’re jealous, sweetheart.”
“Because…” I breathe heavily, wishing I could tear my eyes away from his but that’s impossible. It will always be impossible to not look at him. “Because you’remine.”
We’re panting and glaring, our nostrils flaring, and my body is too overheated. My brain is malfunctioning, and I want him so badly. But I want him just for me.Mine.
Rowan Asher is mine.
I knew this would happen. Falling for Rowan Asher was inevitable. Whether I’m ready for it or not, the universe doesn’t care. It was always going to push me into the deep end and force me to drown.
“Because you’re mine,” I echo, quietly. “I have no right to be jealous when I did this—I set you up. But you’re mine, Rowan.” I pause to catch my breath. “You’re mine, and I’m sorry. I— You’re mine, okay? I’m sorry I haven’t gotten better, I’m sorry I haven’t been nicer, but you’remine.”
Rowan’s growl comes a split second before he lunges, his lips crashing onto mine violently. Bruising. He picks me up, giving me no time to think or room to breathe.
“Say you’re mine,” I pant.
“I didn’t touch her,” he husks. “I didn’t kiss her. I said goodnight and that I had a good time. She asked if I’d call and I told her the truth.”
“You’re going to call?—”
“I told her there was someone else I couldn’t get out of my head.”
“Me?”
His brows pinch, the blue of his eyes searching mine. “Would it bother you if I did kiss her? If I kissed her the way I kiss you?” My hands curl into tight fists, my long nails close to breaking skin. “If I took her home and fucked her? If I touched her the way I touch you?”
I swallow. Looking up at him, my anger fades when I see his face free of malice. The ocean in his eyes is free of storms. It’s safe.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I say, “you already know.”
