“I’ve seen all of you.” He hit the floor at my feet and took my ankle in his hands again. “Doesn’t mean you have a right to see any more of it.” “I have every right.” He pressed the peas to my skin. “How’s that?” “Cold.” “Good.” “And you don’t have every right.” I couldn’t let it go. “Does it make you feel better that you have every right to me, as well?” He looked up at me, his eyes guileless. “Do I?” “Yes.”
