13. Stop fighting it

The moment I opened the door, Ivan walked in and headed straight for the bed, tapping it softly with his hand.

“So, this is where you come when you want to get away from me,” he said, looking up to meet my gaze. His boyish charm made me look away, my cheeks betraying me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked sternly, still refusing to face him.

“Veronica,” he stood up and stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “Why do you make me feel like this is all torture? Do you have any idea what I’m willing to do just to be with you?”

I rolled my eyes at his behaviors, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me nearer. “What if we have some alone time and recreate the first night all of this started?”

I scoffed. “Quit the act, Mr. Carlos. I’m not falling for it.”

He held me tighter, his face only an inch from mine. “Very funny, Veronica Lena Carlisle.”

My eyes widened at the sound of my full name. No one had called me that since my dad. “How’d you know that?” I mumbled, still in shock.

He arched