Part of me wanted to. But a larger part of me was still rattled, and as cold as he was being, I did long for him to take control. For his presence. Regardless of whether that was pathetic or not.

He grasped the keys I’d held out to him, his expression still granite.

“Get in the car,” he ordered.

I bristled at his tone and his expression… detached, unfamiliar. “What about your truck?”

“Kip’s taking care of it.”

I pinched my lips between my thumb and index finger. I did not like this version of Rowan. But I was coming to understand that this man was protective. To say the least. And I could recognize that there were two different versions of this man. The one with twinkling eyes and easy grins, and this one. The somber, dangerous, cold, demanding side. I guessed this was the soldier, the one who turned off the twinkling eyes and the smiles in order to get through whatever he went through.

Though I understood that to a point, I didn’t like it. And I definitely didn’t deserve this cold detachment, most especially after what had just happened.

“Maggie.” Rowan opened my passenger door for her.

I stayed rooted in place. As did Maggie. Rowan’s jaw twitched as Maggie and I ignored his commands.

There was a warm satisfaction in knowing his excellently trained pooch was now siding firmly with me.

Girl power, baby.

I crossed my arms in front of me. “I get you’re a big bad alpha who has… some type of feelings for me,” I explained lamely. “I get that you just saw me almost getting hit in the parking lot, and you’re mad about that. But I was just about hit in a parking lot. Me.” I jabbed my own finger to my chest. “And it is not on me to tiptoe around you because you can’t regulate your anger. And it’s definitely not okay to take that anger out on me.”

I was almost yelling by the end of that little tirade.

Thankfully, Lori, Ronnie, her brothers, and the rest of the audience that had accumulated were now gone.

Still, I didn’t really want to be in the parking lot, yelling at the guy who wasn’t even my boyfriend.

I wasn’t a person who yelled. Or even raised her voice. Growing up, I’d understood that the best way for me to exist was to be quiet, almost invisible. And even after I got out of my mother’s house, I hadn’t been able to shake that. Plus, yelling at a man was risky. Dangerous. You could never know how a man might punish a woman for losing her temper.

But for once, my usually ironclad self-preservation shattered. That and despite how pissed I was with Rowan right then, he had made me feel safe enough to yell at him.

My words penetrated. I watched them go through the mask, watched his eyes flash with something resembling shame or regret. But he didn’t shed all of his fury. Not even a little.