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I told him they were ugly.

He kissed me until I forgot what we were arguing about.

My heart starts pounding.

The stranger reaches for my hand.

I should pull away.

Instead, I let him take it.

His palm is rough. Warm. Familiar in a way that makes my chest ache.

“Seventy-five thousand dollars,” I whisper. “That’s a lot of money for dinner.”

“Depends what’s on the menu.”

I narrow my eyes. “If you think that bid bought anything besides a meal and my sparkling personality, you’re going to be disappointed.”

His thumb brushes over my knuckles.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

“Although I wouldn’t say no to dessert.”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“Been doing that my whole life.”

My eyes burn.

He notices.

Of course he notices.

His grip loosens immediately, giving me room to pull away.

I don’t.

“Who are you?” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches up and removes the skull mask.

Dark hair. A hard jaw. A mouth I remember far too well.

And a pale scar cutting across his left temple, disappearing into his hairline.

A scar that wasn’t there the last time I saw him.

Ten years ago.