Page 96 of Filthy Little Lies

I reach across the table, picking up her hand and squeezing. “For you. Only for you.”

Tears build in her eyes, but she looks away before they fall, and she drags in a breath.

“Savvy, there’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

She wraps up the rest of her sandwich while saying, “There is, but let me tell you in my own way, in my time. Okay?”

I’ve never wanted to force a response from her so much as I do right this minute but doing that would only push her further away.

This patience thing is bullshit.

But for her, I’ll do it.

“All right. When you’re ready.”

A small smile touches her lips. “I have to get back.”

“Leave the mess, I’ll get it.” I stop her from picking up the trash and pull her into my arms. It’s probably overstepping, but I don’t care. If I don’t get my hands on her soon, I’m going to start killing random people.

It’s for the good of society that I hold this woman right now.

When she tips her head back, her gaze flits to my mouth.

“I really do need to go,” she says.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“I’m working⁠—”

“At the diner. I know.” I brush the flat of my thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m not going to drag you home, but I’m not letting you out of my sight, either.”

She licks her bottom lip, where I’d just touched.

“Do you want me to kiss you, Savvy?” I lean into her, my mouth nearly touching hers.

“I…you’re confusing me.”

I wrap a hand around her throat gently. Her pulse quickens beneath my fingertips.

“How am I confusing you? Isn’t this what you wanted? Space? Time? To not be dragged kicking and screaming into my life?” Her throat works as she swallows hard.

“I thought so,” she whispers.

“You’d rather I throw you over my shoulder and carry you home. Then you wouldn’t be responsible for being there. It wouldn’t be your fault if it all falls apart.”

Her brow wrinkles.

“How do you do that? Read into my thoughts like that?”

“I’ve been paying attention, even when you think I haven’t. When I said you belong to me, I meant it, Savvy. And I still do, but I won’t force you.”

Her phone dings.

“Shit. That’s Billy. I have to go.”

“I want it noted that I’m not killing the bastard for interrupting us. And I’m being extremely gentlemanly about you running off when another man calls.” I release her throat and take a small step back.

She smiles, and for the first time since I’ve arrived in Atlanta, it reaches her eyes. There’s a lightness to her tone when she says, “Noted.”