“You’re going to go out there like that? Flushed? Turned on?” Her eyes widen. “I’m not turned on.” “You’re not?” I ask, brow raised, moving closer again. “So if I feel your pulse, it wouldn’t be pounding just as hard as mine?” She shakes her head, backing up until she reaches the wall. “And if I moved in closer, you wouldn’t feel the need to reach out and touch me?” I leave nothing but a few inches between us. “No,” she answers, keeping her hands at her sides as her body remains rigid, but her eyes give her away.
