“Do you like it?” He leans in. “I’d like it better if you’d worn it over to my house. Every guy in this club is staring at you.” “Jealous?” “No.” He pulls back. “No?” I’m surprised by his answer. The way he looks at me, the way his fingers dig in tighter on my back, gives away his possessiveness. “I’ve slammed plenty of guys into the boards for a lot less than looking at my girl.” “Your girl?” I ask pointedly.
