Drake’s P.O.V

For the tenth time, I glowered at Eleanor, flinging her hands off my arms. And for the tenth time, she still stretched out her hand to hold mine again.

I didn’t know how else to communicate to her that I wanted to be left alone. Was that asking for too much?

Anger — deeper than I’d felt in a long time — roared within me as I peeled her fingers off my arm.

“I said, let go!” I seethed at her.

She frowned, like she was about to cry.

“But I’m pregnant for you, and pregnant women need attention,” she whined pitifully.

Her words irritated me even more....