“I’m already involved.”
“I don’t think so.”
He frowned. “You don’t get it.”
“You have to let me sort it out myself.”
“Been there, done that… I was a bystander the other times and it sure as f**k isn’t gonna happen with you and me.”
He was talking about Indy and Jet and al their problems.
“You’re being very nice but I have to take care of this my way.”
“I’m not being nice, I’m protecting what’s mine.” My body jerked in shock at his words, I blinked and my back straightened. “I’m not yours,” I said.
“You’re welcome to think that but it doesn’t change the fact that you are.”
This was familiar, too familiar, annoyingly familiar.
Men!
“I’m not yours!” I said and my voice was so much louder, Shamus gave a woof.
“I get it, Roxie, you’re tryin’ to be independent and strong
–”
Oh no, now he was patronizing me. I wasn’t a big fan of being patronized. “Don’t you dare patronize me, Hank Nightingale. I am independent,” I said, not claiming to be strong. I knew I wasn’t that. “And I’m sick to death of men who think they can…”
I stopped. I didn’t want to go too far, too soon.
“What?” Hank asked. When I didn’t answer he pushed.
“Men who think they can what?”
I scowled at him and burst out in a flurry of (loud) words,
“Possess me! Trap me! Make me be where I don’t want to be or go where I don’t want to go or feel what I don’t want to feel!”
After I was done talking, he twisted, my back hit the bed and before I knew it, he was on top of me, staring down at me, his eyes intense.
“Belonging to me doesn’t mean I’l make you do anything, it just means I consider you mine for as long as this lasts. It means I protect you, it means I take care of you.
For another man, it might mean something different.” His eyes changed, they went funny, the intensity strengthening to something that was mesmerizing.
Then he said, “Don’t confuse me with another man.” His words dealt my defenses a destructive blow.
Doggedly, I carried on, trying to be philosophical, trying to hold up the ragged remains of what was left of the shield I had around me, protecting me from Hank.
“They say, if you care about something, you have to set it free and if it comes back to you, it was meant to be.”
“They’re ful of shit.”
Obviously, I failed spectacularly at being philosophical.
I gave up on that and went for annoyed. “Hank!” I snapped.
He smiled, effectively breaking the moment, and gave me a light kiss.