clarified. “I was caught off guard. Here was a beautiful young woman declaring that romance was dead.” I shook my head. “I’m not that pretty, Ben.” He gave me a strange look. His eyelashes were long, and the ocher flecks in his brown eyes glimmered in the dim evening light. “But you are.” My breath caught in my throat. Because here, sitting in the dark with both my mascara and my nose running, he thought I was beautiful? At my worst, selfish and needy and cold?
