“You. Huge, towering over almost everyone there. Hard. Impassive. But so damn intense. I remember thinking, please, God, don’t let him notice me. Because if you did, I would’ve hated to humiliate myself in front of all those people by fainting.” This time her chuckle possesses amusement. “You can be”—she pauses, slightly squints—“a lot to take in. To handle. It’s like you shrink the size of any room you enter, suck the air right out of it. That kind of intensity can be, uh, daunting.”
