Page 120 of Vega

He glanced at me but didn’t speak.

“And I get that,” I continued. “I really do. But you still treat me like I’m yours in every other way. You protect me like I’m yours. You get jealous like I’m yours. You look at me like I’m yours. Then when I want to feel that, you pull back.”

Vega didn’t answer right away.

I looked out the window, embarrassed by how honest I was. “That’s what I’m thinking about.”

The silence was insufferable. I felt so exposed, but finally he replied, “My feelings for and attraction to you don’t erase how we met.”

“So, you get to decide what I’m capable of choosing now?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you keep doing. You keep acting like I can’t know what I want because of how we met.”

“You can know what you want,” he said. “But I need you to be sure. Because once you give yourself to me, Sonnet, you’re mine.”

My mouth went dry.

He glanced at me then, and the look on his face made the ache between my legs pulse harder.

“You’re quiet now,” he said.

“I thought you said we had to wait until this Roman shit was over.”

“I did.”

“So?”

“I plan on getting it over as soon as possible so we can get us started.”

Us.

I swallowed. “’Us’ sounds very confident for a man who keeps dodging me.”

“I’m not dodging you. I’m trying not to ruin us before we get started.”

I rolled my eyes.

His hand shifted on the wheel. “How experienced are you?”

Heat rushed to my face.

He looked annoyed with himself before he even continued. “I don’t want to know about another man touching you. That’s not something I’m excited to hear.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because I need to know what you’re used to before I touch you the way I want to.”

Those words reached places in me they shouldn’t have.

“Before this goes any further, I need to know what’s new for you and what isn’t.”

I stared at him.

“I’m not asking to judge you,” he said. “I’m asking because I don’t want to move faster than you’re ready for.”

The car felt too small. I looked down at my hands, thinking about all the men who had kissed me and promised patience until patience bored them. I thought about hands under shirts, mouths on my neck, fingers trying to convince me to give more. I thought about stopping things before intercourse and hearing disappointment dressed up as jokes but some just plain obvious and hurtful.