“I find it funny that you think you’re in charge,” I offer, my mouth moving against the metal as I attempt to push back against him.
He has me completely pinned, though.
“That’s because I am.”
I huff a laugh. “You thinkyou are.”
I feel him lean in closer, his body impossibly steady, and the weight of his words presses heavier than his grip.
“No,” he says, the faintest edge of a smirk in his voice. “IknowI am.”
The way he says it—the certainty, the challenge—sends a heat rolling through me, part anger, part something else entirely. I twist against him again, desperate to regain the upper hand, but he anticipates every move, his hand firm between my shoulders.
Each movement between us carries a weight that has nothing to do with strength, the air thick with something unspoken—something electric. This isn’t just an argument.
It’s a push and pull, a battle for control neither of us is willing to lose.
“I’m always the one dominating,” I snap, even though the words feel hollow with him pinning me like this.
There’s a beat of silence, and I hate how my pulse quickens when I feel him grin against my ear.
“Until me,” he says softly, the finality in his voice leaving no room for argument.
I go still, the words sinking in deeper than they should. His weight, his voice, his control—it’s undeniable.
And for the first time, I don’t know if I want to fight it.
For the first time… I think about submitting.
Before I can respond, Julian steps away and releases me. “I should go. Have a nice day, Kai.”
I don’t turn around to watch him go. Instead, I wait, panting like I’ve just run a marathon, until I hear the shower turn on in the other room.
The cold seeps into my skin long after his weight disappears, but the imprint of his palm stays, burning like a brand across my back. I force myself upright, dragging in a breath that sticks in my throat.
I press the heels of my hands against the locker, willing myself to feel disgusted.
You should hate this.
But I don’t.
I can still feel his breath on my neck, the way he leaned in, and the calm certainty in his voice when he told me he was in charge.
It wasn’t condescending. It wasn’t a taunt.
It was the truth.
As I tug my shirt on, I feel the weight of his absence settle in my chest.
I want to call Sophie. I want to hear her laugh, the lightness in her voice that cuts through the noise in my head. I want her to tell one of her jokes, or wax poetic about the romance book she’s reading.
But I also want to see Julian. Even if we spar. Even if we taunt each other, unsure of where to file these feelings we both seem to be developing.
And that’s the part I can’t reconcile.
I don’t just want to dominate.
I want to be wanted—fully, undeniably—by both of them.
