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I watch him walk away, knowing he’s right but too stubborn and scared to do anything about it.
1. Control—Zoe Wees
Chapter 24
Three Days
Roan
Three days. Three fucking days of following her around, crawling out of my skin with the need to know that she’s safe when she isn’t in my bed.
Chapter 25
Keep Me
Reggie
I knew it was a mistake as soon as I watched him walk out of the Chariot three days ago. I knew that any rules about what we can be are arbitrary and based on fear. I’ve never been one to believe something just because someone says it’s true, so why start now?
I’ve had enough of playing by my father’s rules and am ready to write my own.
I sling my purse over my shoulder, then throw open my front door to leave.
I stutter to a stop with a scream when I nearly collide with a person standing on the other side of my door. My heart jumps.1
“Jesus Christ, Roan. You scared the shit out of me. What are you even doing here?” I don’t mean to sound accusatory, but my blood is still pumping from being spooked.
He holds up his hands in concession. “Just hear what I have to say, and if you don’t like it, I’ll leave.”
I cross my arms, feeling a little bare and exposed for some reason. “Okay.”
“You drive me fucking insane, Cortez—”
“Gee, thanks—”
“But, I’ve become addicted to your unique brand of madness. Three fucking days of—” He groans a sigh like he’s frustratedly searching for his next words. “Do you remember when you called me a dog—”
“Roan, I didn’t mean—”
“But it’s true. I feel like a stray just hoping and praying you’ll decide to keep me.”
His words wrench my heart strings. I step aside and hold the door open. “Will you come in?”
He runs his hands over his hair and can barely look at me when he says, “I gave up on hope a long time ago. It never did me much good. And this—” He flattens his hand over his heart, his eyes rising to mine full of swirling emotion. “This hope is eating me alive, Cortez. So please,”—he drags his hand over his mouth, nervous in a way I’ve never seen before—“please don’t invite me in unless you’re planning on keeping me.”
“I was just leaving—”
“Oh.” He shuts down as he looks me over, as if just realizing I’m in heels and carrying my purse. I can feel him drifting, locking down all the openness he just poured out to me. “I’ll let you get on with your night.” His jaw clenches as his eyes rove my bare legs to mid-thigh, where my dress hits. He turns away, but I grab him by the sleeve.
“To see you, tonto.”
His eyes jump to mine. “Me?”
I laugh lightly and shake my head. “These three days weren’t any easier for me. I missed you and wanted to see you, be with you.”
He's motionless. Not breathing or blinking, not a muscle twitching. I’m about to ask him if he’s good when his throat bobs on a deep swallow. “Fuck, come here.”
He cups my face, pulling me to him as his mouth crashes into mine. There’s urgency and yearning and something else I can’t quite describe in his kiss. Maybe it’s our unique brand of madness.
