Rafael's POV
There was something wrong with her tonight. She was being suggestive, not like herself.
I leaned in, my face just inches from hers, studying every signal she gave me.
She bit her rose-glossed lip, forcing herself to meet my eyes. I knew she wanted to look away—from the heat in her flushed cheeks, from how hard she bit down—but she dared herself to keep staring, like she wanted me to feel something from it.
Then her hand pressed against my chest, firm enough to make me frown, to wonder if she was trying to stop our flirting.
"Rafael… I'm not sure." Her eyes trembled, like she was afraid of something.
"Not sure about what?"
"Us." Her voice was heavy with something she'd been carrying for too long, and it made me step back, give her space, listen properly.
"Tell me."
