Jennifer
“Are you talking about me?”
My eyes shot open, my heart skipping a beat at the sound of his deep voice. I looked up, and there, standing at the doorway of the girls’ washroom, was Damon.
His piercing blue eyes met mine through the mirror, watching me with an intensity that sent chills down my spine. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms folded, looking far too comfortable in a place he had no business being.
I immediately turned around to face him, my surprise shifting into irritation. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I’d intended.
Damon raised an eyebrow as if I’d just asked the most pointless question in the world. “Why can’t I come here?” he asked, his tone mocking.
“Because it’s a girls’ washroom,” I snapped. “You can’t be
