SLOANE
My cheeks burned with embarrassment, “I-I-I—” I stuttered, as my voice trailed off.
Adrian lips tipped in a devilish glint. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type,”
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach, as my chest pinched with disappointment. I shifted between my feet, tugging loose strands of my hair behind my ears. “Perfecta!” I said, mustering all the confidence I could let out,
His eyebrows pinched together. Like he was struggling to grasp my little shot at agreeing to his terms. “That’s odd…”
There we go, again. His familiar insufferable self pushing through his mask of being a gentleman. I folded my hands over my chest. “Is it?”
Adrian’s lips parted open like he was about to speak, when he said. “Just come down for dinner,” he said. Adrian didn’t move. Neither did I. A
