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Mia's POV

“What makes this any of your concern?” I shot back, my arms instinctively crossing tightly over my chest, as if that flimsy barrier could somehow mitigate the embarrassment of the damp spot and the persistent hardness of my nipples beneath my thin bra.

I didn't intend to be cruel with my words like I was, but I didn't want to paint him a picture of my vulnerability and indignation, wearing me out like an overcomed devil. 

The flush in my cheeks ignited not merely from anger but from an overwhelming sense of embarrassment that flooded over me, effectively overshadowing the physical ache I had been grappling with only moments prior.

Tom, standing there, didn't respond immediately. 

Instead, he simply regarded me with his deep, dark eyes, his mouth relaxing into a slight, enigmatic curve, as if he were unfazed by the tension pulsing between us.

It felt as though the roles had reversed; I was the one squirming, fidgeting beneath his steady gaze while he remained composed, seemingly unperturbed.

Everywhere fell silent, stretching out uncomfortably long. It granted me a moment to gather my wits, pushing aside the fog of desire that had clouded my judgment just moments earlier.

It was time to reacquaint myself with the reality of this situation — the undeniable truth that this man had an exceptional capacity to infuriate me.

I lifted my chin, trying to convey a sense of defiance. “Seriously, Tom, what on earth are you doing here? It’s way past midnight.” 

He stepped away from the door with a casual grace, taking his time as he moved in my direction, one deliberate step at a time. “I’ve come to persuade you to marry me,” he declared.

I blinked in disbelief, momentarily stunned by the audacity of his words.

Then laughter burst forth from my lips, a reflexive response to what I assumed was a joke. “You must be joking,” I replied.

“I’m not joking.” His expression remained resolute and unwavering. “I genuinely want you to say yes.”

I glared at him, the sarcasm dripping from my tongue like bitter honey. “And what exactly do you think you’ll do if I continue to refuse? This feels like some ridiculous power play.”

Tom’s gaze wandered over me once more, this time with an intensity that made my heart race. “Honestly? I want to spite my son. I want to prove to him that he’s mistaken in assuming he can make it all on his own; that he doesn't need me; that he can just walk away with what belongs to me.”

I scoffed so sharply it caused a pang of discomfort within me. “Tom, Chris is at the pinnacle of his game right now. He’s soaring; he’s winning everything he competes in, and it’s only a matter of time before he takes first place again at the next competition. Sponsors are practically throwing money at him! Trust me, he absolutely does not need you, not in the slightest.”

I watched as Tom squinted his eyes slightly at my words, a flicker of irritation passing over his features before he closed the distance between us in two determined strides, obliterating the space that had once separated us.

In an instant, his chest hovered nearly against mine, so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. He carried a scent that was intoxicatingly alluring, one that made me want to reach out and grasp him, but despite that temptation, I couldn’t ignore the rapid flutter of my heart in my chest, pounding like a drum.

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” he questioned, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that robbed me of my breath.

Every cautionary instinct in my head erupted into a cacophony of alarms, warning me to retreat, to put distance between us before I lost my mind altogether.

He was far too close — too dangerously close —and my body, recalling the wave of heat I’d experienced just moments ago, simmered with a conflicting urge. My skin prickled with electricity, and I could feel how painfully aware I was of my own desires as the evidence of my arousal clung desperately to the fabric of my underwear.

If I didn’t step back immediately, I knew I was setting myself up for a regrettable decision. A decision that I would undoubtedly hate myself for not only in the future but maybe even by the end of tonight.

I felt a reckless urge to reach for the lapel of his jacket, to pull him in closer and lose myself in the moment, to surrender my will and the battle brewing within.

However, I remained still, my breath coming in uneven gasps as I held his gaze, fully aware that the inner voice urging me to retreat was growing louder with every passing moment, screaming at me to move, to get away before I inevitably derail everything I had fought so hard to maintain.