Andrea's POV

"I don't have time for this, Andrea. Get the fuck off me!"

David’s voice didn't just carry anger; it carried a deep disgust that felt like a physical slap to my face. I didn't let go. I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as if my life depended on the heat radiating from his body. I was a Lawson, a woman who usually had the world at her feet, yet here I was, begging for a scrap of affection from a man who clearly hated my touch.

"No," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I won't."

I felt his...