“A guy. But Thad, it’s not a big deal?—”
“What’s his name?” He sets the fork down, and I can feel the tension in the room thickening.
I swallow hard, wishing I’d lied about who I was partnered with, if I was going to lie. “Romeo.”
Thad’s brows knit together. “Italian?”
I frown. “I guess?”
"And you're working with him? Just the two of you?"
"It's a class project, Thad. We’re supposed to work in partnerships of two.”
"How often do you meet with him?"
The question is sharp, and I feel my defenses rising. "A few times a week. We have to—it's a major project."
"A few times a week." He's not eating anymore. He's just looking at me, and there's something in his eyes I don't like. "Where do you meet?"
"The library. Coffee shops. Campus. Public places," I emphasize.
"Just the two of you,” he repeats.
"Yes, Thad. That's how partner projects work."
"I don't like it."
"You don't like what?" I can feel that tension rippling through me. This isn’t at all how I wanted the conversation to go.
"You spending that much time alone with another man. It's not appropriate."
I stare at him. "It's a class assignment."
"Then I'd like to meet him."
It takes me a moment to process that, and my instinctive reaction is to push back. "What?"
"This Romeo. I'd like to meet him. See what kind of person you're spending so much time with."
"Thad, that's ridiculous?—"
"Is it?" He leans forward. "You're my fiancée, Savannah. I have a right to know who you're associating with. Especially men."
The possessiveness in his voice makes my skin crawl. "You're being unreasonable."
He picks up his wine glass. "I'll be here through Sunday. Arrange for me to meet him. Tomorrow, perhaps. Lunch or coffee."
"I'm not going to?—"
"Savannah." His voice is firm now, the tone he uses when he expects to be obeyed. "This isn't a request. If you're spendingthat much time with this man, I want to meet him. Unless there's a reason you don't want me to?"
The implication is clear. If I refuse, he'll assume there's something to hide.
"Fine," I bite out, because I don't know what else to say. "I'll ask him."
"Good." Thad smiles, satisfied. "Now, let's enjoy our dinner."
But I can't enjoy anything. I push food around my plate, my appetite gone and my mind racing.
