The moment his eyes landed on me, I could see the shift in his expression. He was halfway to me when he froze, his gaze sweeping over me like a storm ready to break. His jaw tightened, and his lips pressed into a hard line.
"Val," he said my name in a way that brought out his actual Italian accent, and that would've turned me on if my head didn't hurt like a b***h. His sounded controlled, yet full of something I couldn’t quite place—anger or concern, or both.
I stayed rooted to the spot, feeling his stare. My head still throbbed from where it had slammed into the car door, and the sting on my elbow was an actual useless reminder of how close things had gotten earlier. I didn’t want to be here, in this room, under his scrutiny. But there was nowhere else to be. Did that make sense.
His s
