“You like this.” It wasn’t a question from Clay—it was a statement of fact. “You like how everyone’s watching.” Were they? On some level, I sensed there were eyes on me, but I hadn’t glanced around to check. My gaze never deviated from Clay’s, because he’d given me instructions, and I was determined to follow them. But nerves made my voice go uneven. “I like,” I rasped, “how you’re watching.”
