Page 66 of You Were Never Not Mine

He sounds agonized and I should feel some satisfaction in that, but I don’t. I feel as tortured as he looks, my emotions threatening to wash over me in the most overwhelming way possible and I tug out of his hold, taking a few steps back. Needing distance to clear my head.

“Obsession isn’t healthy,” I murmur, rubbing at the spot where his fingers burned into my skin. “What we’ve shared so far…isn’t healthy either.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” He visibly swallows. “But it’s still there. I can’t deny it. Can you?”

Chapter Thirty-One

AUGUST

Ido not say such things ever. Put myself on the line for someone I barely know? Never. I keep my circle tight and it consists of my family—who I can barely tolerate sometimes—and the very few friends I have, which are almost nonexistent. I’d like to think I’ve lived a mostly solitary life and I have zero problems with that. I don’t need anyone. I don’t want anyone.

Untilshewalked into my life.

Now Sinclair is all I can think about. She pissed me off with theI don’t careresponse and I took it personally like a little baby bitch. Something I never do. Taking things personally isn’t part of my nature because nothing is ever personal. I am just living. Moving through life like a fucking shark who just swims and swims and never stops. Who eats when he wants. Fucks when he wants. On an endless loop, perfectly satisfied.

That’s me. That’s the way I prefer things until Sinclair Miller comes along and fucks it all up. Fucks with my head and my body. My dick wants no one else. Hell, I tried talking to some nameless, faceless woman at a party last weekend and felt nothing. Zero interest. She was beautiful. Flirtatious andwilling to do anything I wanted. She basically said that, and I turned her down flat. Left the party and went back to the house, where I locked myself away in my bedroom and jerked off to thoughts of her. Sinclair.

Jesus. I am fucked.

“I-I need time to think,” Sin admits, her voice low, her expression skittish. She looks ready to run at the first opportunity. “You’re overwhelming me.”

Just being in her presence and hearing her speak is overwhelming, but I can’t say that. She’ll run and I’d chase after her and catch her because I always do. Sling her over my shoulder and take her back to my room at the frat house—I hate that I live at the fucking frat, I need out of there—and fuck her senseless. Until she can’t speak or think and she’s drenched in my cum. Smelling like me because she belongs to me?—

See? My thoughts are fucked up and crazy and it’s all because of her. I have a problem. Is this what my father experienced with my mother? God, I should ask him. I could really use some advice right now.

But maybe I don’t want to know. What if that’s exactly how he felt when he met Mom? Like a lightning strike, forever changed. Forever fuckingruined.

That’s what it feels like. I hate it.

I’m obsessed with it.

“Maybe we can take this slow,” she adds.

I squint at her, trying to comprehend what she means by that. “Take what slow?”

Slow isn’t part of my nature. I don’t do slow for anyone. I waste zero time and I’m impatient to a fault.

“Us. Whatever this is that we’re doing.” She waves a hand between us, her delicate brows drawn together. She seems confused. Unsettled. But at least she doesn’t look ready to bolt any longer. “You could take me on a date.”

“A date? Aren’t we passed that nonsense?”

Her expression turns sour. “No. No, we are not. And taking a woman on a date isn’t nonsense. Have you ever done it?”

“Done what? Gone on a date?” She nods. “Well. No.”

Sin rolls her eyes. “Oh my God. How old are you again?”

“Twenty-two.”

“And you’ve never been on a date.” She sounds absolutely disgusted. With me. Like that ever happens. “I’m not even going to bother asking if you’ve ever been in love.”

“Have you been in love?” I will kill the asshole if she has. No one on this earth deserves her love. Not even me.

“No. But I’ve been on dates.” A sigh leaves her and she slowly shakes her head. “You want to make something of this? You should ask me on a date.”

“Will you go on a date with me?” The words automatically leave me and I feel like a fool. Is this what it’s supposed to be like, asking a woman to go out with you? It’s borderline humiliating.

Her eyes are actually sparkling. She’s eating this shit up. “I would love to. Where are you taking me?”

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