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33

ALLISON

I should’ve trusted my instincts and leapt from Wanda before we pulled into the hotel parking lot.

Instead, I stayed in my seat like a damn fool.

Now I’m standing in yet another hotel lobby with Connor, who just pinched my ass, told the clerk we needed a single suite, and kissed me breathless before I could object.

“Come on, baby. You’re my fiancée now,” he murmurs with that smug smile. “Time to go to our suite.”

I don’t even fight him.

That horrifying realization sends me straight into a spiral.

* * *

Connor lounges shirtless against the headboard, looking like he owns the world.

Meanwhile, I sit in a lumpy chair across the room with my arms crossed like a pissed-off Victorian ghost.

Every muscle in my body is clenched in protest as I try not to notice the way his abs flex when he shifts. Or how his damp hair curls slightly around his ears and over his forehead. Or how his stupid biceps look carved from stone.

I’m in hell!

“Why are you all the way over there, baby?” he asks, casual as sin.

“Because I’m not getting in that bed with you!”

He chuckles. “You’ve been in my bed before, sweetheart. I think we’re past the ‘separate sleeping arrangements’ phase.”

“Shut up, Connor.”

He grins, then pats the bed. “Come here, wife.”

I whimper.

Fuck! What is wrong with me?

He manifested this somehow. Like a spell, taking away my free will.

I fight whatever hold he has on me.

“Nope,” I blurt, bolting from the chair. “I’m sleeping in the bathtub.”

His brow lifts. “The bathtub?”

“Yup.” I slam the bathroom door, toss a towel into the tub, climb in, and wrap another towel around myself like armor.

I lie there, muttering, “I have officially lost my goddamn mind.”

Less than a minute later, the door creaks open.

“What the hell, Connor!” I shriek. “Get out!”

He leans against the frame, shirtless and smug. “Baby.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! Get out!”

“You seriously think you’re sleeping in there?”

Fucker! Why is he ignoring my commands?

“Yes!”

He grins. “Guess I’ll sleep in here with you, then.”

I launch a mini shampoo bottle at his head. “Get. Out!”

He ducks, laughing.

In one terrifyingly fast movement, he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder.

“Connor! Put me down!”

“Nope.” He hauls me from the bathroom and tosses me onto the bed like I weigh nothing.

I bounce on the bed. I stare up at him, stunned at how easily he swooped me up.

Then I glare at him.

My chest heaves. I’m furious, but not at him.

I’m mad at myself.

Because I like his attention. The chaos. The tug-of-war.

God, I’m so broken.

He pulls the sheets back, grinning down at me like he’s won something. “Get comfortable, baby. It’s gonna be a long night.”

My heart pounds like a drum.

I’m not surviving this.

No chance in hell.