Jason leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a scowl etched deep into his features. His sharp blue eyes traced over you, lingering on the hem of your dress like it had personally offended him.

“You’re kidding,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with irritation.

When you didn’t answer, just kept adjusting your earrings like nothing was wrong, he let out a frustrated huff. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

He gestured vaguely toward you, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicked up and down again. “It’s not even a dress—it’s, I don’t know, a suggestion of one.”

You could see the way his shoulders tensed as you moved closer, giving the faintest twirl, but he didn’t back down.

“You walk into a room like that,” Jason continued, his voice gruff, “and every damn guy’s gonna think you’re up for grabs.” His lips twisted into a scowl. “And then I’m gonna have to remind them you’re not.”

His glare was thunderous, but beneath it, there was something raw—something protective, almost desperate to keep you just his.

“I don’t care what you wear,” Jason muttered, even though the steel in his voice told a different story. “But don’t expect me to play nice when some idiot forgets to keep his hands to himself.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping, gravelly and intimate. “You’re too damn gorgeous for your own good.” His eyes met yours, softening for just a moment before his usual sharpness returned.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, the frustration bleeding into a reluctant smirk. “Let’s just get this over with before I start rethinking letting you out of this apartment.”