My stomach clenches.
Yes, I knew where she was driving at all along, but I didn’t expect her to come out and say it outrightly. I’d been enjoying our skirting-around-the-topic game, our careful wordplay. But here she is, wrecking all that effort with a single question.
Elizabeth waits, her expression calm. Expectant.
It’s unnerving how much she looks like Damon in this moment—same sharp intelligence in her eyes, same unwavering patience, same quiet but inescapable authority. I get the sudden, absurd urge to check if she’s got his same habit of clenching his jaw when he’s thinking.
I don’t know what to say.
Damon and I… we have something. Something physical, something all-consuming, something that leaves my body aching and my thoughts a tangled mess of want. But a relationship? No. The
