“Where did you stay last night?” I asked. My face felt hot.
He frowned, “I didn’t stay anywhere. I haven’t slept yet.”
I looked down at my feet, “Oh.”
“Claire?”
He let go of me, then backed up and sat on the bed beside the opened suitcase and crossed his arms and stared.
“What time do we have to go?” I tried to change the subject. My face still felt hot.
“In half an hour. Look at me.”
My eyes met his.
“Did you think I spent the night with someone else?” He had his eyebrows raised and he looked on the verge of pissed.
I shrugged my shoulders once, slowly.
“Claire.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek and stared at the ceiling. Weird how in a few short weeks he felt like he could use my given name like that to show he was serious. But it worked.
Answer me,” he demanded and his voice
