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And I understand why. Ezra—Kiwi, as he is now—is tiring.
“Can’t I come see my second favorite Prez?” he asks, his white teeth flashing with his grin.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Spencer retorts. “A phone call is just fine.”
“But what’s the fun in that?”
They stare at each other, then Spencer sighs again. “I’ll be in my office.” He glances at me, like he knows I’m the real reason Ezra is here. We silently watch Spence disappear down the short hall and listen to his office door click shut.
Ezra doesn’t look at me as he says, “How are you doing, love?”
My stomach twists, but I force myself to take a steadying breath. He turns toward me, his eyes melting as they meet mine.
“Why are you here?” I ask. My voice doesn’t come out as sharp as I’d wanted. It comes out small. Shy. And I hate myself for it. His expression melts even more as he turns fully to face me.
“Just wanted to check on my girl,” he says. “Make sure she’s doing alright. Was your hangover a bitch this morning?” He bends his arm and rests his head on his fist as he stares at me. He stares at me like I hadn’t called him a freak only a few days ago. Like I hadn’t hurt him. Like he hadn’t hurt me.
“Ian helped out,” I mumble. “I feel fine.”
“And Arch?” he asks. I pinch my brows together.
“What about him?”
“Have you talked to him today?” He tries to keep his face and voice casual, but I see it in his eyes, the tightness, the possessiveness.
“Ask what you really want to ask, Ez,” I say, resting my hands on the bar and leaning forward.
“I want to know if you’ve talked to him.” He keeps his head propped on his fist, his expression never changing. But his eyes darken.
“If I have?” I challenge, and he huffs out a humorless laugh.
“Are we really doing this again?” he asks. “Are you really going to fight with me right now?”
“I’m not fighting with you.” I stand at my full height and fold my arms over my chest. His eyes drop to my tits, and the look on his face makes my body irrationally heat. “Ez.” I snap my fingers in front of his face and he finally lifts his gaze to mine. “I’m not fighting. I just want to know what your deal with Arch is.”
“You know what my deal is, love,” he says. “I don’t want you around him.”
“Kinda hard to avoid him. I work here, at his club’s bar.” I throw my arm out, vaguely gesturing around us, and he shakes his head.
“You know what I mean,” he breathes. “I don’t like that you got drunk together.”
“Why?” I snap. “I’m a grown woman. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He shakes his head as I speak, a stupid, humorless grin on his face.
“To my knowledge, the last time you two were drunk together, he tripped and landed his dick inside you. I’m not letting that happen again.” I blink at him.
“You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t fuck,” I snarl. “We’re not together, Ez. And even if we were, I would never allow you to treat me like this.”
“Like what?” He tilts his head to the side, that irritating smirk still on his stupid face.
“Like I’m your property.”
“You are,” he says flatly. “You’re mine, Kennedy. You belong to me.”
“I amnotyour property, Ezra. You do not own me.”
“I do,” he says unapologetically. “I own every fucking inch of you, Kens.” My lips tighten, hateful words I know will bruise him ready to burst free. “But you own me too. I gave you my heart and my soul the moment I saw you. I’ll happily brand your name into my body and let everyone know I’m your property. That I belong to you.”
I blink at him.
