"Marcus, what are you thinking about?" It was a woman's intuition; Anya could tell that even while holding her, his mind was wandering somewhere else, to someone else.
She was dying to know what was going on in his head, but the question just echoed silently in her own heart. 'Marcus, you absolute jerk,' she thought, wondering just how many other girls were crowding his thoughts. But what could she do? She was trying so hard to make him fall for her all over again, yet she couldn't just reach into his mind and wipe the others away.
Anya's heart was anything but still, and Marcus wasn't faring any better.
'Anya, why? Why are you being so close like this?'
To her, these gestures might have felt simple, innocent even. But for a man who had once loved her with a kind of desperate, crazy intensity, she had no idea what she was stirring up. Holding himself back was getting harder; this closeness was dragging every ghost of that first love right back to the surface.
