Page 55 of Promise Me Forever

I look past my driver, trying to peer through the tinted windows. “If you’re still here, she’d better be in that damn car.”

His lips press into a thin line. “She’s not, sir.”

Mild annoyance turns to the burn of anger. “Why not?”

He offers a small shrug. “She insisted on taking a cab.”

The woman is fucking infuriating. “You should have made sure she got into the damn car. I told you to get her home safe.”

“What would you have preferred I do, sir? Manhandle her into your car in the middle of the street? Maybe tase her and shove her in the trunk?”

Yes! “No, of course not.” Sighing, I run my hand over my face and immediately regret it. Her smell, the intoxicatingly addictive scent of her cum, is still on my fingers, and now all I can tasteis her. My heart pounds a staccato rhythm in my chest. “Did she say anything else?”

He clears his throat and looks at his feet.

“Constantine?”

He takes a deep breath. “She said that you did not need to make yourself feel better about being a”—he winces—“a coldhearted asshole. She also said that she is a big girl who can take care of herself.”

She thinks I’m coldhearted? If fucking only. That would make this whole goddamn thing a whole lot easier, wouldn’t it? If only I didn’t feel so fucking much of everything whenever she’s around. I pull at the collar of my shirt, twisting my neck.

“Would you like to go home, sir?” Constantine asks, the question loaded with meaning. He opens my car door as he awaits my answer.

I step inside the car, but home is the last place I want to go.

The securityin this apartment building is abysmal. I buzzed the super, and he let me in without even asking for my fucking name. Not a single word of greeting, the door just swung open. I shake off the uneasy feeling as I look around me with a judgmental eye. I’m fully aware of how privileged I am to have the kind of money that buys security and safety and to have grown up knowing nothing else. But still, I don’t like her living here when any psycho off the street could walk in and knock on her door.

Case in point, I hammer on her door with my fist. My anger festered on the car ride over here. I was angry at her for refusing the ride, sure, but mainly I’m angry with myself. How did I let myself lose control like that? And how the hell did I expect her toreact when I treated her like a whore by offering her a ride home but nothing more? I bang again, and a few seconds later, I hear her footsteps. At least she has the sense to check her peephole, which doesn’t work out in my favor. She yells at me to go to hell.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just want to talk.”

“And I just want you to go away and leave me the hell alone.”

Dammit, does she have to be so infuriatingly stubborn? This is why I don’t do dating and relationships. They’re fucking torturous. Except here I am, on her doorstep. Ready to drop to my knees and beg if it will make her let me in. “I’m not going anywhere, Amelia.”

“Then you’d better get comfy, because you’re not coming in here, asswipe.”

I suck in a deep, calming breath, unclench my fisted hand, and rest it on the door. “Asswipe? Really? I’m offended, but only by the subpar caliber of your insults, Miss Ryder.”

As I expected, that pisses her off enough that the door opens a little. She folds her arms over her chest, her cheeks pink with rage. She’s wearing pajamas, if they could be called that—barely there boy shorts and a shirt, the fabric so flimsy I can see the outline of her nipples. Dammit it all to hell, now all I want to do is pin her to the wall and fuck every bit of attitude out of her and every ounce of anger out of me. “Can I come in?”

She taps her foot impatiently. “No. Whatever you have to say, you can say right here.”

I make a show of glancing up and down the hallway. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want your neighbors hearing any of the things I’d like to say to you right now.”

Her breath hitches and her pupils dilate, but she tips her jaw defiantly. “I’ll take my chances.”

I lick my lips and hold her gaze, wondering how far I can push her. Because as much as she likes to pretend she hates this back and forth between us, she loves it as much as I do. “I wantto fuck you. No, Ineedto fuck you. But before I do that, I’d really like to spread you wide open and?—”

She pulls me inside and slams the door closed behind me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Kris with a K has teenage boys!”

Fuck me, I love pushing her buttons. “Well, I did warn you.”

She blows a strand of dark hair from her face. “I don’t just mean that, Drake, I mean…” She looks at the floor and takes a step back from me.

I follow her, tipping her chin up with my forefinger until she’s looking at me once more. “You mean what, Amelia?”

The curve of her throat works as she swallows. “You ruined my date.”

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