“Whew,” Isa giggled. “We have to come back. That was fun.” I chewed my lip, not wanting to think about it. I wasn’t about to tell them what just happened, even though I knew they’d eat it up. I didn’t hate that I enjoyed it. I hated that it reminded me of him, and that was why I enjoyed it. I still wanted to come. He’d changed my palette. I didn’t want to understand Damon, but sometimes, I couldn’t help thinking of all the times he watched me but never touched me—confusing me and intriguing me. And how he hadn’t really changed so much.
