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“The Dance of the Fireflies this weekend.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, his touch sending goosebumps over my skin. “I want you to be my date.”
My heart pumps faster. “But… I thought you were going with Willow.”
“I only did that to make you jealous.” His smile brightens. “I’m still not sure if it worked.”
“Itdefinitelydidn’t work,” I lie, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to look defiant. “And why the hell would I go to some dance with you, anyway?” I shake my fist at him, the one curled around my key. “You lied to me. Youbeatme. You—” I force myself to be silent, but the rest of the sentence still resonates in my head.
You made me feel things for you.
Of all the things he’d done, that last one is the worst. I can’t afford to be distracted right now. I’m supposed to be getting my life back on track. I could have left it at two one-night stands and some weird petting in between, but going on a date with Owen is crossing a line. That would be edging dangerously close to a relationship—and I’m not ready for that yet.
Not after how badly my last one ended.
“I want you to come, Evie.”
Maybe if he’d chosen different words, he might have persuaded me. But he sounds exactly like he did last night at the football game when he bulldozed over my objections at having an orgasmin public.
He does whatever the fuck he wants. He doesn’t care about anyone else but himself. I’d have to be a fucking idiot to believe anything else.
Owen watches me like my thoughts are scrolling across my face for him to read. I blush and drop my chin, giving my lips a quick swipe.
“I’ve… been a bad man,” he says quietly. His fingers grasp my chin, lifting my head so he can look into my eyes. “I’ve demanded, instead of asking. I’ve taken, instead of giving.” His chest rises as he draws a heavy breath, and when he lets it out it warms my face. “Let me make it up to you, Evie.”
At least he’s stopped calling you toy.
For now.
I pull my chin out of his grip. “No. I have studying to do.”
His eyes move to the pile of books lying on the carpet. “I can see why you’re having trouble. Might I suggest you read them instead of throwing them on the floor?”
He laughs when I punch his arm, hurriedly lifting a hand to ward off more violence from me. “Okay, okay! Bad joke. But seriously. I could always tutor you.”
“Pfft. You?” I cross my arms again, leaning back on one foot. “You’d have to be able to keep your hands off me, and I don’t see any evidence that’s got a chance in hell of happening.”
There’s a dark smile on his lips now.
It makes me blush and drop my gaze to the floor, but I’m determined to resist his charm. “No, Owen. I’m not going to the stupid dance.”
“Ball.”
“Whatever.” I throw my hands out. “I don’t have anything to wear, and from what Kat tells me, I’d be turned away if I show up in anything other than designer clothes.”
This time when he steps forward, I stand my ground. Not just because I’m sick of retreating like a coward, but because I miss his warmth. I fell asleep in his arms last night, and I’ve never felt as safe, and as warm… and as cherished before in my life.
Not that it matters. You were probably still coming off your high.
Owen slides a hand around the back of my neck, dropping his head until our lips are a breath apart. “Do you really think I’d invite you the Firefly Ball and not buy you a dress?” He presses his lips to mine just long enough to warm them, and then steps back.
“I never said yes…”
He nods, a strange light in his eyes. “I won’t demand that you obey me.” He puts a hand in his pocket and takes out the collar, running it through his fingers almost exactly like I did. “This time, the choice is yours.”
