Page 82 of Jealous Stepbrother
“Scarlett,” he growls, low enough for only me but still sharp enough that the barista freezes mid–espresso pull. “You can run into a hole in the ground and I’ll still find you. Don’t ever fucking doubt that.”
My chest heaves. I clutch my bag to me like a shield. “You’ve lost your mind. Do you hear yourself? Do you see the scene you’re making?”
His laugh is jagged. “Oh, I see it. Let them watch. Let them whisper. They should know exactly who you belong to.”
The barista clears his throat nervously. “Signore, prego—maybe sit?—”
“No, we’re not staying,” I snap, then flash him an apologetic look before turning back to Asher, cheeks burning. “You don’t own me. You don’t get to track me across the world like some—some tyrant.”
His hand clamps around the edge of my table, knuckles whitening. “Don’t I? I tracked you because I love you, Scarlett. Because you’re the only thing in my life that isn’t negotiable. And you know what terrifies me? That you’d rather believe I’m some monster than accept that truth. Lie to my face and tell me you’ve been happy with your fucking space these past two days?”
My throat closes because I can’t.
Half the café is pretending to scroll phones, the other half is openly staring, greedy for more. My stomach churns with humiliation, but under it, treacherously, is the molten ache I can never quite erase when he says love.
“You’re smothering me,” I whisper, half-hearted, because it’s all I can get out. But even my heart mocks my poor excuse. Because the truth is, I want Asher to smother me. I want…needevery heavy, overwhelming, feral, and unhinged emotion he chooses to shower me with.
It’s the only thing that makes me feel seen. Cherished.
Loved.
My breath catches as what he said finally pings harder into my brain.
Wait. Did he say?—?
He crouches, suddenly on eye level, his face so close it’s dizzying. “I’m sorry, but no, baby girl. I’m not going to stop. I’m keeping you. Because I can’t breathe without you. And maybe that makes me insane, but I’d rather be insane with you than sane without you.”
A chair scrapes and a woman in sunglasses muttersDio mioas she stands, exiting.
The whole place is vibrating with the weight of his words, my silence, and our combustible collision.
I want to scream and to cry and kiss him until neither of us remembers how to exist. “Asher…” My voice breaks.
His hand brushes mine, the briefest touch. “Come home with me. Now. Or I swear to God, Scarlett, I’ll tear this city apart until you do. You can punish me whichever way you choose, except with distance. That… baby, that would kill me. Please.”
Everything inside me trembles.
But it also shakes loose the last crumb of common sense. Or maybe it’s the ingrained edict to be proper, to bow to what society wants from us. But… should I really risk my happiness for their rules? Haven’t we already crossed every line that purportedly matters?
“You don’t get it.” My voice cracks as I shove at his chest. “This isn’t only about what you want. What about what I want?”
His jaw flexes, eyes glittering dark and wild, but then he exhales, something raw breaking loose inside him. “Is that so bad,” he rasps, voice shaking for the first time, “when all I want is to love you, Scarlett? Every second of every day for the rest of my life?”
The café goes still, like the air’s been sucked out of the room.
Cups hang midway to mouths. The barista’s hand freezes over the steam wand.
Everyone is listening, and he doesn’t care.
“My world?” He presses a hand hard against his chest, his voice rising. “It’s you. Every corner, every hour, every breath I take—you. My heart doesn’t beat unless it’s beating for you.” His eyes lock on mine, blazing. “They can call me sick, controlling, obsessed—I don’t give a fuck. Let them. Because the truth is, Scarlett, I’ll never apologize for needing you the way I do.”
I stagger back a step, shaking my head, hot tears streaming down my face. “You… you took my choices. My pills. You?—”
“Yes!” His voice cracks open, ricochets off the walls. “Yes, I did. Because I wanted a piece of you, baby. Any way I could have you. Even if it was only a chance at you carrying something of mine inside you. Even if it was selfish. Even if it was wrong.”
Gasps ripple across the café.
Someone muttersmadonna santa. I cover my mouth, choking on a sob.
