The ice cream spoon clatters back into the bowl as my phone vibrates against the counter. Maddison's voice spills through the speaker: "You still haven't made a move? He's practically alone with you all week—"

A warm, large hand slams over mine, fingers digging into my wrist until the phone slips from my grasp. It hits the floor with a crack, screen flickering dark. I gasp, but the sound dies in my throat when I'm shoved back against the fridge, the cold metal seeping through my thin tank top.

Jiang Heng's face is inches from mine, his breath hot against my cheek. "Talking about me, little girl?" His voice is rough, like he's been smoking, and there's a dark laugh in it that makes my knees weak. One hand stays clamped around my wrist, the other braced on the fridge door beside my head, caging me in. "What were you saying? That you've been wanting this?" He presses his thigh between my legs, forcing them apart, and I can feel the hard length of him through his jeans. "Answer me."