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“I don’t care about other writers. I care about you.”
And for all my talk about independence and safety and learning to stand on my own, I realize… I don’t feel weak for wanting this, for wanting him. I feel wanted. Protected. Loved.
“I want to stay with you, Owen. No matter what.”
My throat tightens. "You don’t have to choose," I say, even though I want her to. Even though I want her to burn every bridge back to that world and stay here with me—innocent, brilliant, and mine.
"Don’...
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Her voice is barely...
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"Because if I go out there, I know what I’ll find. The same cold hands and smilin...
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"You’ll ha...
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Me, and every one of my godda...
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“I need answers, Owen,” I push. “The snow’s melting. Our time’s running out. And I can’t go back to pretending I was okay without you. Pretending any other man meant a damn thing. Pretending I wanted to be alone.” My voice cracks, low but steady. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. But I want the truth.”
“Owen,” I say again. Then, before I can stop myself… “I’m already in danger. Because I love you.”
His eyes soften.
“You...
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“Of course I do.” My voice drops to a whisper. “I’ve loved you for years...
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His mouth parts. A soundless br...
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“How the fuck would I know that? You marri...
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“I told you why I did that. I—” He leans in, cutting me off and kissing me. I can taste the longing, the yearning, the need. It’s the kind of kis...
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“I want to do right by you,”
he says, his voice hoarse.
“Whatever that...
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“Then be honest. You threatened my ex without telling me. You’re still hiding things about your work.”
I finish drying my hair and glance at the mirror. My hair’s sticking up—just like it did that day by the creek, the last time we ever swam together. I was hers that day, even if she didn’t know it. Hell—I didn’t even know it. Not really. But I loved her then, and I love her now. I was so ready to tell my father off, to make a move… and then fucking Jake.
“She’s mine, and no one has to approve or give their blessing or even know what the fuck we’re doing together. Jake cheated on her. You want to tear someone a new one, call him.”
“You’re mine now,” he whispers. “Mine, Emma.”
Rolling over, he reaches into the little bedside table. “That and… this.” He hands me the last coupon.
Then write our story, Emma.”
Because men like that don’t stop. They’ll do anything to keep you safe. And a woman doesn’t want a man who plays it safe. She wants to be the reason he goes too far.”
