“I’m not married,” he cut in, his tone flat. “Anything else you want to know?”
Oh, he was already angry. No, he hadn’t raised his voice or anything, but I’d caught the glint in his hazel eyes and knew I was treading on dangerous ground. Unfortunately, it was too late to turn back, so I told myself to toughen up and keep going.
“Everything,” I said simply. “I want to know where you came from. I want to know about your family, about where you went to school. I’ve told you so much about myself, and I still know nothing about you. Nothing at all.”
His gaze dropped from mine, and he fussed with the napkin in his lap. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“There’s always something,” I said, doing my best to keep the mounting frustration out of my voice. “I don’t care if you’ve had the most boring exist
