I close my eyes and sigh. “God, that’s so annoying.”
He chuckles, nuzzling his nose into my hair. “You love it.”
There’s that word again: love. It keeps popping up during random cracks in conversations, like some persistent weed.
He must feel the tremor go through me at the thought of that scary four-letter word, because when he raises his head and looks at me, his expression has lost its lightness. It’s Intensity James gazing down at me now, all sharp edges and laser like eyes.
I beg, “Please don’t say anything. I just woke up. I haven’t had my coffee. I’m in no mental condition to deal.”
“Deal with what? No, don’t look at the wall. Look at me.”
Chewing my lip, I focus on the cleft in his chin. It’s a much safer spot than the black hole of his eyes, which will suck the truth right o
