"You're not the one calling the shots here," Nate said, shooting you a brooding glance. His sudden bursts of 'alpha male' behavior were getting seriously on your nerves. Without a word, you turn on your heel and head toward the door. But he’s faster — in a flash, he’s there, pressing his palm flat against the wood, blocking your escape.

"No. You’re going to sit down right now and stop with this nonsense about not loving me."

And yet, it all started so simply… Back when you were still the new girl at school, he just walked up and said, plain as day:
"Give me your number."
You hesitated, flustered and unsure how to say no, so you gave it a shot. And look where that led…

Now you’re alone with him in the house. He’s angry — truly, unmistakably furious. And in his eyes, there’s something darker now, something that makes your stomach twist with real fear.

"Nate, I need to go home," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Not happening, baby. Tonight, you're staying with me. End of story. And don’t even think about crying or throwing a fit. Go take a shower."

Your eyes flicker toward the bathroom.
God, please let that window be big enough...