Page 48 of Sour Notes

Instead, he’s white-knuckling the door jamb so tight, muscles I’ve never met before stand to attention, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon.

There’s so much tension pouring off him, I can practically see it in the air.

The irritation seeps out of me, a knot forming in my stomach when I notice the rigid clench of his jaw.

Is he hurt? Is anyone else hurt?

“Swayze, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” My voice wobbles, and I hug my laptop to my chest.

He mutters a curse, one of his hands dragging his messy hair off his face, his eyes finally meeting mine, white hot fury simmering in their depths.

“I. Need. You.”

Well, damn. The gruff tone, combined with those three little words, just chased the fear away and sparked a whole new circus of activity low in my belly.

Our eyes stay locked, the air around us thickening.

Does he mean he needs me…? Butterflies flutter wildly at the idea of him storming in here and just taking what he wants.

I’ll unpack that later because right now all I can think is monster dick what?

Except…

Wait.

Wait one damn second.

“Is that lipstick on your collar?!” My voice might have come out a little higher than intended. I’m literally staring at him, mouth hanging open so wide I probably resemble that penguin vibrator now. Those butterflies wither and die, while I try to swallow past the bile threatening my upchuck reflex.

Surely he hasn’t broken our rules already. We just set them a few hours ago.

He didn’t last a day?! Seriously?

I knew it.

I’m an idiot.

He’s Deputy Heartthrob, the fucking playboy lieutenant.

What the fuck did I expect?

So, what now? Some bitch got him all riled up, but he had a crisis of conscience and came home to me?

He can fuck all the way off. Crossing my arms, I aim my best death glare at him, because fuck this guy today.

Been there, done that, got the carry-on of unresolved bullshit to prove it.

“Get out, Swayze. We aren’t playing this game. I’m not about to fuck you because you’re a horny prick who can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I don’t want to fuck you.”

Oh, charming. You’d rather bang some random chick who has no issue throwing herself at someone else’s man?

Not that he’s actually mine, but that’s beside the point.

He stalks towards me, all power and danger, his eyes a wild molten silver. My stomach flips uneasily and I shuffle backwards on my bed until my back hits the wall.

“I don’t need to fuck you, Mia. I need my girlfriend.”