My voice is cold, imperious. I meet and hold his gaze, harder than I’ve managed since that terrible moment when I stared into his eyes, waiting for him to respond to my impulsive kiss. Waiting, waiting . . . only to be rejected. Only to have everything I thought had been building between us for days, weeks—even months—thrown back in my face and made to seem utter foolishness.
Has it only been months? It seems like years.
