Damon sat beside me, a little too close, his thigh pressed firmly against mine, his body curved subtly toward me like a shield. His hand— impossibly warm— rested on the back of my neck, fingers playing with the baby hairs there like I was his favorite possession.
Eyes flicked in my direction— I felt like a flame in a room full of moths.
I sat there, too stiff, worried that one wrong movement would unravel me. The slit of my dress was dangerously high— teasing the edge of propriety with every shift of my leg. One inch too far, and I’d expose more than just skin.
The fabric clung to me like a dare, sequins catching the light, whispering secrets I wasn’t ready to share. I crossed my legs slowly, deliberately, praying my nerves wouldn’t betray me.
I tried to speak, to move. But the longer
