“But nothin’. What? Are you sayin’ I got permission to step out on you when you’re gone and you the same?”

No, I was absolutely not saying that.

I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak again but his arms tightened around me so tight, my mouth snapped shut.

Because I realized this wasn’t bickering with Preacher.

This wasn’t even an argument with Preacher.

This was something else entirely.

And it was beginning to scare me.

“So, we’ll be careful when we’re fuckin’ other people so we don’t catch something’?” he went on. “Is that the motherfuckin’ bullshit you’re sayin’ to me right now, Lyla?”

His arms around me nearly hurt.

“Preacher, you’re holding on too tight,” I told him.

“Answer me,” he bit and did not loosen his hold.

I blinked.

Except in Chicago, even when we argued, his tone was never biting.

And even in Chicago, it was more cutting than it was biting.

“Of course not,” I snapped. “But I don’t know what the incubation period is for some of these things. So even if you get tested, we should be careful, just in case, you know, something rears its ugly head later and I get an STD even though I’ve only ever slept with you. Only when we know the coast is clear should we have at it.”

He scowled down at me another long beat before he relaxed.

“Well then,” he murmured.

“And that wasn’t cool,” I spat.

He tensed again instantly. “It wasn’t cool thinking you were suggesting we fuck other people either.”

“I’ll point out, I wasn’t suggesting that.”

“I know, but if you listened to what I said, I said it wasn’t cool thinking you were.”

“I heard you, Preacher,” I retorted, pushing against his hold.

“Calm down,” he growled, holding me even tighter.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I returned, still struggling. “And let me go!”

“Calm the fuck down, Lyla!” he exploded.

I stilled.

“And you didn’t finish what you should have said,” he declared. “Even though you’ve only ever slept with me and only ever will fuckin’ sleep with fuckin’,” he put his face in my face, “me.”

Only then did he let me go and he did this to roll out of bed, snatch up his jeans from the day before off the floor, tear them on, the same with his tee and then he nabbed his running shoes.

And as he was stalking out, he clipped, “Now I’m going to the goddamn store.”

Then he was gone, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

I stared at the door in shock.