ASHLEY
"Beckett, please, listen to me—"
“Shut up.”
His mouth crashes into mine before I can even get the rest out. I try to explain—I need to explain—but his hands are already on me. Shoving. Gripping. Dragging me backwards.
I stumble. My heel scrapes. And then his palm slams flat against my spine, shoving me back against the cold glass. I choke out a breath as the skyline lights up behind me.
Thirty floors of the city flickering under my shoulder blades. The window rattles when my back hits it, and I realize I’m not afraid of falling. I’m afraid of what I’ll do to make him stay.
His body pins me there. Hard. Rougher than I’ve ever felt him before. And still, I let him. I want him to be angry. I want it to hurt. Because maybe if he ruins me, it’ll feel like I’ve paid something back.
