I know the two surest ways of getting a girl —any girl—to be yours. And I might not be perfect at these but I'm pretty certain I've gotten better. The first is to show the need. Like how I've kissed Tiffany and held her and whispered under my breath. The second…well, damn. Why can't I stop thinking about Tiffany without feeling guilty?
At the foot of the stairs, she catches up to me and pats my hands. I pause and arch an eyebrow, unaware she'd followed me out of the study. She's breathing hard now, like she has so much to say but very little time.
"What?" I ask.
"Why are you doing this?"
"I dont—"
"You scared me just now," she almost yells, her voice shaky. "I thought you'd…that you'd…"
"I'm fine," I say again.
"Yeah, I can see that now," she says. "So why the hell are you treating
