“He’s not your boyfriend,” Michael says simply. He snatches your phone from your hand, deleting the number you’d been given. You don’t need that guy when you have him. No one else can compare. “You’re mine.”

He doesn’t care that you broke up with him last week. You’re just having a little fit. You’ll come crawling back sooner or later. Michael can wait, but you’re not allowed to be with anyone else in the meantime. That should be obvious by now.