Page 63 of She Was Made for Me

I clench my jaw, glaring at her. The thought of her spending another evening—or, fuck, thenight—with that greasy little rat makes my skin crawl.

“Unlessyoucan give me a reason,” she adds, lifting her gaze to challenge me.

God, I love her like this. All bratty and smart-mouthed and needing nothing more than for me to teach her a lesson.

“I can’t,” I grit out, drawing on my last reserves of self-restraint.

She gives an impatient little huff, staring at me. Her teeth dig into her lower lip and my gaze becomes fixed on it—plump, pink, wet. I remember the way she felt last night in the garden, her teeth grazing my neck, her body soft and pliant against me, her eyes dark and needy, begging me to give her more.

What if I had? What if I’d brought her home and given in to what we both so clearly want? I have the sudden, vivid image of her under me, hair splayed out on the pillow, hands pinned beside her head, her pretty face contorted in ecstasy as I bring her over the edge.

Fuck.

No way is Owen going to be the one who gets to do that to her.

Violet sighs, turning away and heading into the entry hall. “I guess I’ll go text Owen about our next date,” she calls over her shoulder.

I stalk out of the room after her. “No. You won’t.”

She stops near the stairs and glances back at me.

Christ. What am I doing?

But I can’t stop myself.

“You won’t be going out with him again.”

Her eyebrows rise expectantly. “And why is that?”

“You know why.”

She gives a triumphant little nod, her mouth curving smugly. Fuck, she’s so cocky right now and I can’t take it for another second.

“Get over here, Violet.”

She takes a step in my direction, but I’m too impatient after waiting for her all evening. I cross the entry hall and pull her into my arms, crushing my mouth to hers. She melts against me, moaning as I part her lips and our tongues collide. She tastes like wine, smells like sweet vanilla, and feels like heaven in my arms. My hands tangle in her curls as we kiss hard for a long, desperate moment, then I yank myself away with a low growl.

I should not be doing this. Rich’s face flashes into my mind, and I drag an agonized hand through my hair. If he knew, he’d kill me. He’d fuckingkillme.

I glance at Violet, wavering. It’s not too late to put an end to it. I should do it now, before it really begins.

But the truth is, it began the moment I met her in Joe’s. It began the moment she smiled at me, the moment I heard her laugh. It’s a runaway freight train at this point, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

I shake off the thought of my best friend, reminding myself how much it hurt to watch her walk out with Owen tonight. How much it killed me when I thought she might be going home with him instead of coming home to me. It instantly brings a scowl to my face, and Violet’s brow creases.

“You’re angry,” she murmurs, and just like that, I feel myself soften. She can be such a ball-buster, it’s easy to forget she has a vulnerable side. I think about her telling me she had a panic attack in class that time. I think about the way she cared for me when she hit me with her phone. She definitely has a soft side, and it makes me weak for her.

But I can’t let that weakness in now. I can’t feel soft and caring for her right now, because if I do, I’ll realize what a truly terrible idea this is.

I force myself to harden my features. “I am,” I say, stepping close enough that I can feel the heat coming off her. “Telling me you had a great time tonight, that you’re going to see Owen again.”

Something flickers in her eyes, an understanding of how we’re going to play this, and she nods. “You don’t like it when I talk about going out with someone else.”

“Fuck, no.” I lift a hand to stroke her hair, tenderly at first, then I catch myself and pull away. “Don’t ever talk to me about another man again.”

She gives an indignant huff. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

I let out a dark chuckle. “Oh, I think you’ll like it very much when I tell you what to do, sweetheart.”

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