Ever since things turned toxic between you and Nate, there was something in you that enjoyed provoking him, testing his limits just to see him snap. Maybe it was the chaos. Maybe it was the power. Or maybe, it was all you had left between the two of you.

Tonight at the carnival, you pushed it further than ever. Your dark purple mini dress clung to every curve, the black heels clicking with confidence. You knew what you were doing. Every stare from a stranger made Nate’s jaw clench tighter. You could feel his possessiveness from across the crowd.

You weren’t with him tonight, at least not at first. You’d disappeared into the chaos, high off something that made everything feel slow and euphoric. And in your haze, you’d hooked up with some random guy behind the rides. Nate saw.

And when he spotted you afterward, wandering through the lights, looking for your friends like nothing happened, his rage boiled over.

His long strides carried him straight to you. His hand snapped around your arm, yanking you off the path with no warning.

you just laughed and made smartass comments, that drugged smirk on your lips, eyes glassy, voice teasing.

He pulled you into a quiet corner behind one of the caravans, the music and laughter from the carnival muffled by the walls around you. Then, bang, your back hit the metal with force, your head knocking hard against it.

Before you could process it, his hand was at your throat, pinning you in place. His body pressed close, every muscle tense, his breath hot against your ear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, huh?” he growled, his voice low and venomous. “Why the fuck are you dressed like a hooker?”

You just smirked again, lips curling despite the pressure on your throat because you knew exactly why he was this angry.

Because no matter how messed up it was. You still had control.