“Stop, Nina.” He hooks a finger under my chin and coaxes my head up with his knuckle. “I’m not doing this with you. She doesn’t have a star tattoo on her right shoulder, or a Texas-shaped birthmark, or gold glasses, or freckles I can’t stop staring at, alright? Stop asking me about other women I could date when I’ve got you in my arms. You’re the only one I’m thinking about.”
