Chapter 22. It Is a Contest, After All

Mark

I pace around my room and continue to curse loudly at the walls. I think back to when I went to confront Emily about the lies she had spun about me to Rose.

It's impossible not to recognize the way Emily looks at me—like I'm a slab of juicy meat she can't wait to sink her teeth into. She stares straight at me as we talk, telling me she knows I secretly loathe being with Rose.

I won't lie; overall, it has been a very uncomfortable experience… not because I don’t want to be with Rose but because I hate sharing her with anyone.

The way Emily is looking at me as we stand at her door is weird. She expects me to break down and tell her what she wants to hear. I've been used to female attention all my life, but this unsettling crawling sensation up my spine is very new. I have never despised a woman this much.

And I know exactly why.

I am consumed by Rose.

I don't want her to think about me and someone else together in any for