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“Any funny war stories?” I ask, sliding to the edge of my seat. For some reason, I need his attention on me. When he just shakes his head, I realize why. It’s what Tucker used to do to me. We would be out at dinner or on a date and he would spend the entire time on his phone, causing me to feel lonely and embarrassed. It made me feel like I wasn’t good enough company, and once more, that insecurity grows, even if the others are here.
I remind myself that he’s probably working, but as time stretches on and the others try to fill the gap his distraction creates, the worse it hurts and the angrier I get. Here’s a man asking me to be all in, telling me he will never hurt me like those before him, and he planned all this, yet now he’s on his phone like I don’t even exist. Work or not, it lets me know where his priorities lie, and it fucking hurts.
“Reign.” Dal tries to draw my attention away as they glance from Raff to me, but it’s too late. My mouth tastes sour, and ugly memories raise their ugly heads until I feel like that scared woman I once was.
I hate that, and I’ve come so far, so I do something I always wanted to do in this situation.
I stand, making the chair scrape across the floor, and drop my napkin on the table. Raffiel’s head snaps up, and he looks confused as he peers at me.
“I’ll be back, and then we can go since you are so busy.” I turn and walk to the bathrooms. I refuse to cry. I refuse to let them ruin all the progress I’ve made.
I push into the bathroom and slam the door shut, staring at myself in the mirror as I remind myself who I am. I’m Reign fucking Harrow. Fuck them. Fuck him. If he doesn’t want to be here, then he doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t get to hurt me like that, nor does he get to ignore me. A date shouldn’t consist of people being on their phones. Maybe that’s an old-fashioned way of thinking, but it’s what I want, and I refuse to accept any less, not even from Raffiel. Even if he was looking into my protection, it’s not okay.
The door opens, and my head snaps around. Raffiel storms inside, kicking the door shut. Backing up, I hold my palm up between us, and it hits his chest as he advances on me.
“Miss Harrow,” he begins, “you do not walk away from us.”
“Oh, fuck off, Raffiel.” His eyes widen. “I’m surprised you even noticed,” I spit before I realize that doesn’t help at all. I’m reacting, not explaining. “You were too busy on your phone.”
“Reign.” He sighs, reaching for me, but I duck under his hands and turn to him, refusing to let him smooth it over and make it all better like Tucker would. I feel what I feel, and I deserve that. I am allowed to be hurt. I am allowed to feel. No matter how pretty he is or how good he makes me feel, he doesn’t get to brush this under the rug with excuses.
“No, I don’t want to hear it, okay? Whatever your excuse is, it’s not good enough. I spent years in a relationship where I felt alone and isolated, paraded on dates only to be ignored, and it took me a long time to come back from that, yet the first date I go on since him, here we are again, and I feel ignored like that woman back then. No matter what you were doing, no matter how important it was, it doesn’t make it okay. This is my expectation in a relationship. I don’t ask for much, but if you can’t handle that, then fine. Good luck to you. I refuse to lower my standards for any man ever again. Not even you, Raffiel. Actions speak louder than words.”
“Then let me show you,” he snaps, angry now. “Let me show you exactly how dedicated I am and how goddamn proud I am of you for speaking up and setting your expectations. I’m sorry, and you’re right. There is no excuse. I will never let it happen again.” His expression is so sincere, and when he drops to his knees, my eyes widen.
“Raffiel, no.” I push him away. “You don’t get to just touch me to try to get me to forget. I’m angry, let me be angry. I need to consider if this is what I want.”
Sliding up my body, he grips my neck and slams me back into the wall. “Let me make one thing very clear, Miss Harrow. You get time, you get your feelings, but you do not get to threaten me with walking away when we both know that’s what it is—a threat. You said you are all in, and we are holding you to that. I made a mistake. It was in regard to your safety, but it was still a mistake. I am rusty at dating since I haven’t been on one since I was sixteen fucking years old, but never think for one single second that you are not my priority. If you want to see my phone and what I was doing, then you can. I was checking in with the staff to make sure everything I planned for when we get back is sorted, and I checked the cameras. I will never keep anything from you, but don’t ever threaten to walk away from me again. I don’t like games of manipulation. I made a mistake, and I apologize. I will make sure it will never happen again, but I am not that idiot Tucker, and I will prove that to you every single day from now on. Now, what can I do to make it up to you?”
I search his gaze. Is he right? Was it a threat to try and hurt him like he hurt me?
Yes.
I relax into his hold. “I don’t know,” I admit. I reacted so badly. Of course he was checking on my security. I should have known. He isn’t Tucker. I’m his entire priority, and he’s shown me that time and time again. I simply jumped to conclusions because of my past. I’m still not happy that he was on his phone on our date, but I can tell he will never do it again. He truly is sorry. I guess we are both rusty at this, and our pasts make it harder to work through.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“No?” he purrs. “How about I kiss it better? How about I show you exactly how obsessed with you I am?”
“Raff,” I protest, but it dies on my lips when he drops to his knees, peering up at me with sincere, worshipful eyes.
“You are my everything, Reign, and something I didn’t even know I was looking for, yet I found you, and I’m never letting you go. I’ll spend my life on my knees for you if you’ll let me. I’ve served before, baby, but never the way I’ll serve you.”
“Raffiel.” I stumble back into the wall as his hands slide up my thighs and meet my hips, and then he stills, waiting for me to decide. I could say no and he would walk out of here holding my hand, willing to fight for us. Everyone makes mistakes, and I will probably make some too. I’ve been in relationships before, but never like this, and I realize it’s how we deal with those mistakes that makes the difference.
Do I still want Raffiel? Yes.
Do I still want this? Yes.
Am I scared? Shitless, but I’m Reign fucking Harrow, and I don’t let fear hold me back from what I want.
“Show me,” I order. “Show me that you want me. Show me that you’re sorry. Show me that . . .”
“That you’re mine?” he finishes with a wicked smirk. “Gladly, Miss Harrow. Now be a good girl and scream so they all know that you’re mine. I don’t like the way they look at you. If you knew what I wanted to do to that man who dared speak to you, Reign, you would be terrified.” He pulls my dress up, leaving me breathless. “It is not just Dal who would kill for you, Reign. I would as well. Remember that. I’m a weapon, and you are the trigger.”
His hands keep my dress gathered at my hips as he leans in, placing a kiss over my mound. I reach for him, tangling my fingers in his hair and mussing it. Kicking one leg over his shoulder, I smirk. “Prove it,” I taunt, still annoyed, but I know from the look in his eyes that I will be too tired to feel anything but pleasure when he’s done with me.
His dark eyes consume me, drinking me down. His suit is perfectly pressed, and every inch of him is perfect until I mess it up, and he loves it.
