“What do you mean to me?” he demanded out of nowhere. “What?” I could barely catch my breath, much less follow his train of thought. Not with him this close. “What. Do you. Mean. To me? “I-I don’t know.” “Then how can you be sure you mean anything at all?” “Because of the way you look at me,” I said without thinking. His head jerked back, and he blinked. I’d actually startled Houston Morrow. I lowered my gaze to his chest, expanding with every hard breath he took. “You look at me like I’m someone you never thought you’d see. You want me, but you can’t have me, and that pisses you off, so you
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