Page 47 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
“Going to bed.”
“In the spare room?”
I swallow and lift my chin a little higher. “Yes.”
Without meaning for it to happen, the space between us drops several degrees, and I feel as his emotions stir hard enough to make me flinch.
“No,” he mutters, brows furrowing. “You’re not sleeping in the spare room.”
Scoffing, I turn back and go to open the door, but I feel him against my back in seconds. His hand moves down my forearm and closes over my hand, not hard, but enough to make me feel the intent behind it.
“You’re not,” he reaffirms, breath brushing against my nape and sending a shiver down my spine.
Irritation flares in me at how easily my body reacts to him, and at his audacity.
“We’re not doing that.”
Loosening my grip on the doorknob, I turn away, pulling from his grasp to look at him directly as my expression hardens. “Doing what?”
Luke’s eyes take me in completely, like he’s struggling on the inside. His jaw clenches. “We’re not pretending we didn’t just take a step forward.”
I huff out a bitter sound before I can stop it. “That’s what you’re calling it?”
“What else would you call us sleeping together?”
“A mistake,” I force through gritted teeth, not backing off.
Part of me regrets saying it, from the way his expression falls, and from the bond that makes me feel his pain as my own. But I don’t take it back, and I don’t allow it to soften me.
Then, Luke’s eyes harden. “It wasn’t a mistake. Don’t reduce it to that.”
“I don’t want to act like we’re suddenly stable, or like we have any idea of what we’re doing,” I fire back, forcing myself to ignore the turbulence moving between us.
“I’m not asking for that,” he denies, expression serious.
“Then why invite everyone over and try to inject me into every conversation? You were hovering like you were trying to claim territory.”
Disbelief scatters across his face before he scoffs, gesturing to me like it should be obvious. “Because you’re mymate. Because you are in this now, and I’m trying to make this work. I’m trying to make this easier, and to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. I survived before you.”
It’s a loose claim, and I know it, but I don’t want to admit I need him. I don’t want to need him.
“I don’t want you to think you need to survive alone now. Not with me,” he says, hitting harder than expected. He exhales slowly after a beat, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not sleeping in the spare room.”
Despite his calm tone, I grit my teeth anyway. “I need space.”
“You had space, and I’m not letting you try to brush this off,” he says, taking a slight step back to give me room. “I won’t touch you.”
I blink back at him, caught off guard. “What?”
“I won’t touch you unless you ask me to. I’m not going to pretend last night didn’t happen, but I won’t force it either,” Luke says, sounding far too agreeable. “You can hate me, you can question every moment of this, and you can be angry, but you’re not sleeping alone.”
Standing there for a long moment as I stare up at him, trying to find any sort of weak point I can push to get him to back off from this, but he doesn’t. He has no intention of relenting, even if I want him to.
Growing tired of arguing, even if it means sacrificing my space, I huff out a breath. “Fine. But don’t touch me.”
“I won’t,” he murmurs, backing up even more.
