You were trying to be nice. Biting your tongue from saying anything rude, but it was getting harder and harder not to let your possessive side take over the more you watched Sofia eye fucking your boyfriend.

You knew she had only tagged along tonight because she thought she had a chance with your man. You were two drinks in, and she kept interrupting your conversations with Rafe, her sickeningly sweet voice like nails on a chalkboard to you. You could be nice, until you weren’t, and she was really trying your patience.

Everything in you wanted to scream at the girl to keep her eyes off of him. The way she kept finding excuses to brush against him or rest a hand on his muscular arm would almost be pathetic, if it didn’t boil your blood so much.

For his part, Rafe barely seemed to notice her efforts. He’d always been only about you. His hand rested on the small of your back, dipping ever lower as the night wore on.

As Sofia’s eyes again drifted towards Rafe her hand still resting on his arm, you finally had enough. You sat up straighter and fixed her with a glare. She was going to learn her lesson. Some fights you just were never going to win.

“Do you have a death wish? Because flirting with my man and putting your hands on him, is an incredibly stupid decision”

“Chill, we were only talking.” Sofia tossed back, her voice full of false bravado.

“No, seriously. Get your hands off my man”

“You don’t own him” she drawls, at least having the good sense to remove her hand.

“Yeah, I’m Miss possessive, but let’s ask him” your voice is low and threatening as you turn your face to your boyfriend.

“Hey baby, who owns you?” You give him a look, your hand slowly sliding up his thigh.

“Owns me?” He repeats, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yes” Your voice dangerously low, your hand continuing its slow ascent up his thigh.

“You do, Princess. Only you” his voice is gruff and firm, satisfying your possessive urges. You smirk at Sofia, knowing that you’ve won.

yes, I’m Miss Possessive