“Zyrax, knock it off. Eliot is—”
[None of our business.] He cuts me off, finishing my own sentence. [He doesn’t smell like blueberry pie. I want her. She’s ours. Not his.]
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I say through my teeth. “Walk over there and cause a—”
[Walk up to her, ask her to talk and be a man.]
He shoves more of his rage through and a groan tears out of me. My hand shoots out, finding the wall, and I settle against it.
[We have her or no one does.]
“Since when are you like this?” I grit out, forcing myself upright. “Since when do you want anyone? You hated every girl I’ve hooked up with. Every single one. So what’s different about her? What’s so special?” I pause. “She doesn’t even like you.”
[I like what I like.]
“That’s not an answer.”
[Go talk to her.]
“I’m no
