Page 103 of Love Me Stalk Me
"Not until you say it."
"I can't breathe!"
I chuckle, lifting her effortlessly once more. "Not my problem."
She groans dramatically. "I hate you."
"Admit it, Russo."
She squirms, flails, gives one last pathetic attempt at resisting?—
And then, finally, finally, she groans in defeat.
"FINE! I'm not heavy! You lifted me easily!"
I grin like a damn idiot.
"See?" I say, easing her back down, letting her slide against me the whole way. I make sure I feel every inch of her body against mine as I set her down. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
She lands firmly on the ground, panting, her face flushed, eyes wide. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, her hair slightly disheveled from the ordeal.
I expect her to say something smart.
Instead, she just stares at me, lips slightly parted.
And I realize—I just messed her up.
Good.
She shoves at my chest. "You are so annoying."
I watch her struggle to regain her composure. Her cheeks are still pink, her eyes slightly dazed.
"You're not heavy," I say again, softer this time. "And you're definitely not too big. Not for me."
She bites her lip.
And I know—I just messed with her head in a way she wasn't expecting. Three years with a man telling her she's too much, too big, too heavy—and here I am, lifting her like she weighs nothing, like her body is exactly what I want. Because it is.
Her mouth opens slightly.
Then she snaps it shut.
And I definitely notice the way her eyes look down, just for a second, before she catches herself.
"So," she says, clearing her throat. "You really don't like him, huh?"
"It's not that I don't like him," I say, watching her closely.
She arches a brow. "Really?"
I shake my head. "It's not about him. It's about what he does to you."
That catches her off guard.
She looks at me, features carefully composed, but I can see the question forming before she even speaks.
"But why? Why does that even matter to you?"
