“What I need is someone on my fucking side.” “I am on your side,” I growled. “You’d be in my bed, if you were,” he had the audacity to say, no trace of guilt or remorse in his words. “Yet you aren’t.” “That’s because I’m on my side, too.” “Meaning?” He scoffed. “Meaning I don’t want to be any more attached to you than I already am, because you obviously don’t feel the same.” “And if I do?” he asked after a charged pause.
