“Evan,” I say, warning and plea all at once.
He waits, not moving. “Molly.”
He says my name as if it’s something precious. Like it’s a secret nobody else may know.
I lift my chin. “I’m not doing a relationship.”
“I’m not asking for a relationship.”
“Good,” I snap, too fast.
Evan’s gaze drops to my mouth. “I’m asking for you.”
I clench my jaw, desperate for some kind of anchor. “You don’t get to just—”
He closes the distance, slow enough that I could stop him at any second. He keeps his hands out to the sides, open and empty, like he’s letting me set the rules.
“You can say no,” he says softly. “If you want to.”
I open my mouth, ready to tell him to leave.
Nothing comes out.
He steps closer, so close I can smell the clean sweat on his skin, the faint tang of motor oil from his jacket. He’s so real it makes my head spin. Evan’s eyes sharpen, pleased and wicked.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “That’s what I thought.”
I hate him.
I hate that he’s right.
I hate that my skin feels too tight and my lungs feel too small.
So I do the only thing that makes sense.
I grab the front of his shirt, haul him down, and kiss him.
Hard.
The force of it jars a surprised sound out of both of us—his a low grunt, mine a hiss through grit teeth—and then our mouths find each other, desperate and brutal and so far from gentle it barely counts as kissing at all. He doesn’t flinch this time. Doesn’t freeze or hesitate. Evan opens to me, tongue and teeth and hunger, and meets my ferocity with his own.
I break it just long enough to glare at him. “Don’t get cocky.”
He puts his hands on my hips, thumbs digging in, but his smile gets sharper. “You came at me like you were hungry.”
I shove him, but I might as well try to move a brick wall. “You’re not that irresistible, Wilder.”
He tilts his head, eyes darkening. “You keep telling yourself that.”
There’s space between us now, just enough for air, and it makes every inch of my skin feel cold. I hate that I want him closer again. I hate that I’m panting.
“Bedroom,” he says, voice low and final.
I laugh, a bark of disbelief. “You always this direct?”
Evan dips his head, mouth near my ear. “Stop pretending you want to be alone. Take me to your bed, Molly.”
A shiver crawls up my spine. “You’re—”
