Page 29 of Bound

I spin her so she’s facing me, cup her cheek in one palm, willing her to understand how fucking precious she is. “He’s an asshole and you deserve better.”

Her eyes flick to mine, and then away, and the pain in the deep brown depths calls to me, spurs me on. I have to make her understand that, have to make sure she knows how fucking great she is. “Sure,” she says quietly, the four letters filled with disbelief.

Rage fills my belly, burns up the back of my throat.

How does this woman not see how fucking perfect she is?

And…fuck it.

I’m going to make her see.

I have to.

“Claire,” I begin.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, trying to pull free.

But I’m done with this, done with keeping my distance. I draw her with me as I turn and move us through a door and into one of the empty rooms lining the hallway, closing it behind us, pinning her back against the wooden panel.

She’s tall for a woman, but I’m taller, especially in my skates. “You’re not fine.”

Her chin lifts. “I am fine.”

“Liar.”

She shoves at my chest and when that doesn’t move me, she tosses her hands up. “It wasn’t going to work long-term anyway, I knew that going in.”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

She frowns at me. “Um…because I live in Baltimore and can’t have a states away boyfriend?”

Snark.

Sass.

This woman only gives them to me.

And I fucking love it.

“So, why did you go on the date in the first place?” My hands are on either side of her head and I sneak them in a little, allowing my fingertips to brush the silken ends of her ponytail.

So fucking soft.

Like I know the rest of her will be.

Her cheeks go pink. “It doesn’t matter.”

And that reaction tells me that it matters a whole fucking lot. “Claire,” I warn.

She scowls at me. “Don’t pull that big, broody hockey player nonsense. You can’t bully me into giving you an answer and?—”

“—you don’t owe me any explanation of your life,” I finish, am able to because she’s told us guys on the team the same thing enough times that I’ve memorized her answer.

Those eyes narrow further. “Exactly.”

“So,” I say, ignoring the laser beams she’s tossing my direction and pushing for an answer anyway. “Did you just need to get laid?”

Pink turns to bright red, and she shoves harder at my chest. “You’re an asshole, you know that, right?”

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