His body stil pressed against mine, his hands came to my face and tilted it up, forcing me to look at him.

“Jet, I don’t know what’s gonna happen and I can’t promise anything but I do know I don’t want this to end.

What we have is good, it’s so f**kin’ good, it’s great.”

“Eddie…”

“No ‘Eddie’, listen to me. You go, I fol ow and bring you back. You leave, I’l do it again. You want to quit workin’ at Fortnum’s, do it. But I’l be at Smithie’s every night to pick you up. I told you I’d wear you down and I thought I was gettin’ somewhere but it seems I got work to do.”

“Don’t,” I whispered.

“I know you love him, but your Dad’s an ass**le.” I shook my head but I was beginning to feel it, coming up, wil y-nil y and uncontrol able.

The attitude.

No one cal ed my Dad an ass**le.

Okay, well , maybe Eddie could get away with it but not without a little ‘tude thrown at him.

“And your Mom has shit taste in men,” he went on.

I stopped shaking my head and stared at him.

He did a lip touch and my body froze.

“But you don’t,” he said.

He pul ed me away from the wal and in his arms.

Then, he grinned. “You have f**kin’ great taste in men,” he finished.

That brought me out of my freeze and I glared at him.

“This isn’t funny,” I snapped.

“You’re wrong. This is hilarious. You love me and you’re tryin’ to break up with me.”

I put my hands on my h*ps in a Double Diva Threat.

“I’m not trying, I am breaking up with you.” The grin broke out into a smile; white teeth, dimple and al .

“You are so ful of shit.”

Real y.

Was he serious?

“Eddie…”

“Cállate, mi amor. We’re done talkin’ now. I’m takin’ you to the bedroom.”

I planted my feet. “We are not done talking!” He pressed me back.

“You wanna do it against the wal again?” he asked softly, then his lips went to my neck.

“Don’t ignore me while I’m trying to break up with you,” I snapped at him.

His hands went under the shirt.

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m just not listenin’ to your shit.”

“Eddie.”

He kissed me.

It was a good kiss.

No, it was a great kiss.

My fingers curled into the waistband of his jeans.

“I real y don’t like you,” I whispered against his mouth as his hand cupped my breast.

“I know. You love me.”

I tried to give attitude, I even tried to hold on to the panic, but it was just melting away.

And then it was gone.

Just like that.

“I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?” I asked.

His thumb did a nipple swipe.

I did a gasp.

“Probably not,” he said.

Oh well .

Whatever.