I blink once.


A third time.

Not a single word leaves my parted lips. My brain goes static, unable to form a single coherent thought for several seconds as I remain frozen in my seat.

I must have not heard him right.

There’s no way he could have said something so absurd.

Those are things I wish I could say and actually believe right now. But unfortunately, I know better.

I meet his icy eyes reluctantly, and they greet me with their usual intensity—as well as something else I wasn’t expecting; unconcealed lust and very little patience.

Scratch that.

No patience at all. None whatsoever.

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. The expression on his face says far more than any words ever could.

He’s not fucking around.

He’s dead serious.

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