I’m about to rear my foot back when I hear the latch, and I know she’s unlocking the door. She undoes the two dead bolts but doesn’t open the door. I try the handle again, and this time it opens. I walk into the room, my chest rising and falling, and she’s across the room with a robe pulled around her and her arms crossed on her chest. She has a vacant look on her face, her eyes red and puffy like she’s been crying. I’m across the room in an instant.
But when I reach her, she puts her hand up to stop me, and she moves to the other side, putting the coffee table between us. My voice softens. “I’m sorry. I need you to listen to me.”
She laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, it’s a disgusted one. “Really. You want to talk now? The time to talk was probably earlier after you fucked me and then couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I mean what the heck, Dylan? Now you want me to listen to you? I don’t think you have anything I want to hear.” Her face is red and got even redder when she said “fucked.” I don’t think I’ve heard her cuss before, and the way she stumbles over the word, I don’t think she’s comfortable with it.
She’s still holding her hand up, but I don’t care. I’m not having this conversation like this. I lift my leg and step over the coffee table and have my arms around her in an instant. She’s struggling, but I don’t care. I heft her over my shoulder and carry her down the hall into her bedroom.
She’s yelling at me, telling me to put her down, and when I get close to the bed, I do exactly as she asks. I put her down, but before she can get up, I’m on top of her. My hands are on hers, holding them in place over her head. My body is pressed hard against hers, and she can’t move. I know she’s independent and stubborn, but she’s going to listen to me. “Is that what you think we did? We fucked?”
She stops then, and her eyes are staring daggers at me. “What would you call it? I’m pretty sure if you have sex and the man runs away after, that’s exactly what it’s called.”
I lower my head so our faces are only inches apart. “I made love to you, Jenna. We made love is what I call it.”
She huffs in frustration, but there’s hope in her eyes. “Oh yeah, well, you must have liked it so much you just couldn’t wait to get out of here.”
“Jenna, please listen to me. I came here to protect you, but from the moment John showed me your picture, I knew. This morning, my mind was a mess. I wanted to do everything right. I was going to talk to John... about us, about how I feel about you.”
She juts out her chin. “Don’t you think you should tell me how you feel about me first?”
“I love you. I love everything about you. I wasn’t thinking right when I left here. I was trying to figure out how to talk to Nash about my job and seeing if I could station here or—”
“In LA?”
I nod. “Yeah, I have a mission in two days that I have to go on, then I’ll have to train someone, but then I can move here and—"
I’ve loosened my hold on her now, and she puts her hands on my chest and pushes. “Wait, let me up.”
With jerky movements, I roll off her and sit up. This isn’t going how I thought it would. She’s about to tell me to go, and I’m not going to be able to. I can’t leave her.
She sits beside me and pulls a leg up on the bed to sit sideways and face me. “So let me get this straight. You left here this morning to tell John you love me, and you were going to quit your job... the one you love.”
I almost deny loving my job, but I know I’d be lying. “Yes.”
“To be with me?”
I shake my head. “I’ve done this all wrong... I know I have. I should have talked to you before I left. I should have seen how you felt about it all before I started making all these decisions, but Jenna, I didn’t even think. I physically can’t lose you. If you tell me you don’t want to be with me, I’m still moving here just so I can work every day on changing your mind.”
“No.”
Heat flushes through my body. I can literally feel the vein in my neck vibrating under my skin. I try to tamp down the anger and fear. “That’s not an option, Jenna. You’re mine.”