But my pulse ispounding.
Because I don’t think he is.
A grin slides across his lips.
“Yeah, I don’t think I am.”
He hasn’t moved, but somehow,
his gaze draws closer, holds me tighter.
“I'm right. Ain't I?” he whispers.
The seconds countdown, a standoff,
waiting to see who moves first.
Before I can respond?—
“Andrew?” Elle calls again.
His body stiffens,
eyes slam shut,
a muscle jumping in his jaw.
I lean in. “Recurring problem’s calling.”
Then Andrew grabs my hand
and yanks me to the next aisle.
My back meets a shelf,
and dust floats through light,
slow and nosy.
The air whips wild in my lungs as his cologne wraps around me—warm, dark, and a little reckless.
I can’t think straight.
“The fuck is happening right now?” I mutter under my breath.
“Wasn’t even a fuckin’ choice,” he says, eyes burning into mine. “You think I’m lettin’ you walk away?” He smirks with a shake of his head. “Not in this lifetime—you're stayin' right here where I can fuckin' see you, angel. I mean it.”
Oh, shit…
he called meangel.
Fucking hell, Allison—stop smiling.
One pet name and you’re melting like a moron?
You’re so goddamn easy.
A small groan leaves me.
