Page 72 of Rebellion

He leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes.

Was he worried about her mental health?

Yes.

Her physical health?

Also, yes.

Did he have any right to confront her about any of this?

No.

Fucking no.

And that was what was killing him the most. She was out of his reach. She was... not his.

She’d made it clear that she didn’t want that.

And are you going to just let her do that? Push you away?

Oleg is gone.

There is nothing in your way.

Well, other than the fact that they’d come from different worlds. Similar, but different.

Oleg had been a slimeball. But he’d been Russian, at least.

Would the Bratva ever accept a Scottish bodyguard being with their princess?

And did he fucking care?

Sofia would. Damn it.

She and Aleksandr were close. But Colm was fucking furious with him too. He hadn’t been protecting her well enough.

He’d let Oleg near her.

Move away from the door.

If he stayed here any longer, he was going to storm back into her room and demand everything from her.

She doesn’t want you to call her baby.

He had to admit that had hurt. It had reminded him of the status of their relationship.

Which was at zero. As in, they were barely acquaintances at this point. They’d once been friends. Or so he’d thought.

Friends who flirted.

Now, they no longer had that.

But he was determined to get that back. That and more.

Time.

He had to give her a bit more time to get her head around all this.

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