Damon goes very still.
“I don’t think that’s what I meant,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Two people with each other exclusively? What else do they call it, Damon? Shared solitude?”
He just stares at me, really stares. His dark eyes are shadowed with something I can’t quite place. It’s not irritation, and it’s definitely not amusement—no, this is deeper. He looks…frightened.
“It’s just that I’ve never…” He pauses.
I reach out and touch his cheek, suddenly feeling the need to. It's smooth. My thumb brushes his jaw, and I feel the tension coiled in him.
“You’ve never what?” I ask.
He doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, and even before he speaks, I know he's about to change the topic.
“Never mind,” he says.
His hand comes up, wrapping around my wrist, not to stop me but to guide my h
