JOHN'S POV
I felt bad like it had been my fault that she had panicked during the second kiss. It made me wonder what she had been through in New York. It was like putting puzzle pieces together with her. What 'had' happened to her? Had someone hurt her? Something traumatic had to have happened. Or maybe I was jumping the gun.
I sighed and tapped a key on my laptop, sending several periods into the proposal I was looking over. What 'if' some a**hole had hurt her? The thought raced through my head like a f*cking obsession. Jealousy and something akin to protectiveness ran through my blood. God, if anyone had touched her, I swear to God I would—I punched the desk that my laptop sat on and slammed my elbow onto the top to grip my hair—I'd show him who was boss. F*ck, what was wrong with me?
