“Worried about me, Holmes?” she teases, and I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I’m your boyfriend, Lacey,” I say lowly. “Fake boyfriend,” she whispers so softly, I have to press my phone against my ear to hear her. “Doesn’t matter. Fake. Real. I don’t give a shit. I take care of what’s mine, and right now, you are mine.”
