Zane takes a step closer. His blue eyes darken like a storm rolling in. He looks pissed, and the word jealous still lingers in the air like smoke. I can feel it pressing down on both of us. My heart won’t stop pounding, but I stay still. I don’t move.
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t feel,” he says, voice low and sharp.
Before I can react, his hands are on my waist. He pulls me in fast, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
Then he kisses me.
It’s not soft. It’s not slow. It’s rough, hungry, full of something I can’t name. Like he’s trying to tell me something without words. His grip tightens like he doesn’t want to let me go.
I should push him away. I really should.
But I don’t.
Because deep down, I want it too.
For a second, everything else fades. The doubts, the pain, the way he al
