Elijah barely had time to react before he was pulled into the black car waiting outside.
The door slammed shut.
Silence.
Dominic sat beside him, one arm resting against the door, fingers tapping against his knee in slow, measured beats.
Elijah exhaled. "Okay, are we gonna talk about it, or—"
"Do you think this is a fucking joke?"
Elijah froze.
Dominic wasn't yelling. His voice was low, controlled, but the barely restrained fury behind it sent a chill down Elijah's spine.
"You think I don't see what you're doing?" Dominic continued, finally turning to face him. "Flirting with Romano? Letting him touch you? Playing games with me?"
Elijah's jaw tightened. "First of all, I wasn't flirting. And second, I'm not playing games with you, Dominic."
Dominic leaned in, close enough that Elijah could feel his breath.
"Then what the fuck was that?" His fingers brushed Elijah's jaw, but it wasn't gentle. It was possessive, demanding.
Elijah refused to be intimidated. "That was me having a drink with a guy who doesn't act like he owns me."
Dominic's eyes darkened.
For a moment, Elijah thought he was going to snap—to take what he wanted right here in the car, consequences be damned.
But Dominic only exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. He was trying to control himself.
And for some reason, that made Elijah even more irritated.
"You don't get to be mad at me for talking to someone else," Elijah said, voice quieter now. "You don't own me, Dominic."
Dominic's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. "I know."
Elijah blinked, caught off guard by the admission.
"But I want to."
The confession hung between them, heavy and raw.
Elijah swallowed. His heart was pounding.
And for the first time, he didn't have a smartass response.
Because he wasn't sure if he wanted to run… or lean in.
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