His thumb traces my lower lip, and fire shoots straight through my core. “And I’m not going to give you up.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “You can’t just decide that. You can’t just—”

“I can do whatever I want.” The certainty in his voice is absolute, unshakeable. “And what I want is you.”

“That’s not how it works.” My protest sounds weak even to my own ears.

His hand slides away from my jaw to cradle the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair again. The gesture is claiming, possessive, and it makes every nerve ending in my body light up.

“I’ll bring Andrew to...