Don’t change the subject.” His intensity is alarming. It’s also arousing. I don’t believe I’ve ever been looked at with such perfect focus in my life. My voice faint, I say, “What was the subject again?” “You said my brains equal my beauty.” Honestly, at this point he could tell me I said I’d like to throw a saddle on him and go for a ride, and I’d believe it. “Yes. I suppose I did.” “So you think I’m beautiful.” Put off that he’s hunting for more compliments, I scrunch up my nose. “I take it back. Narcissism is never pretty.”
