“You're so …” Paxton gestures at me with one hand, holds his coffee with the other. “Bare.” I glance down sharply to see if my shirt's ridden up, but it hasn't. He must be speaking metaphorically then. I look up at his face. “You wear your emotions all over your fucking face.” He points two fingers at the steel grey color of his eyes. “You looked right at me while we were screwing and you started sobbing. I've never seen a girl look so … fucking naked before.” I smile, but it's a sad one. “You haven't cried over your sister, not once?” “No.”
