Sometimes, walking into the lion’s den is the easy part.
CAMERON
He hides it well but I can hear the pain he’s suppressing and I shouldn’t care so why do I feel like holding his hand?
I’m realizing slowly that there is a depth and a complexity to this handsome man with his frowns and glares and harsh words sitting a few centimeters away from me.
Things that make me question my initial assessments of him and cause my heart to beat stupidly whenever he looks at me.
I don’t think I like it very much at all.
Unable to help myself, I pull one leg up and under myself, turning around in my seat so that I am almost entirely facing him.
He shakes his head at me. “What are you doing?”
“What are they?” I ask quietly and he frowns at me.
He’s almost always frowning at me.
“What?” He asks.
