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He leans forward and I inhale sharply, bracing myself for our sham to lead to a kiss I have not yet mentally prepared for. His mouth moves to my ear instead. “Do not think for a moment that you are fooling me,” he whispers, his bottom lip grazing my lobe. “This lapse in memory may be genuine, but I know you are hiding something.”
Despite the tension between us—or maybe because of it—his proximity makes my pulse race. But his accusation stirs my panic because it’s true. I am hiding something. I’m not entirely sure what, though.
I’ve already learned simple denials don’t work with Zander, especially not when he has already decided on an answer. “You’re one to talk,” I say instead. He’s been guarding every morsel of information I receive, feeding me in small increments as he deems sufficient.
“I’ve hidden many things from you,” he admits, releasing my hand to slide his fingers over the small of my back. To anyone watching, we must look like a couple about to make up after a fight—our expressions somber but our touches intimate. “Some, for good reason.”
I gather my courage and tip my head back. “Maybe we all have secrets for good reasons.”
“Perhaps. But I will uncover yours, eventually.” His eyes drop to my mouth, and I hold my breath, an odd, conflicting mix of dread and anticipation stirring within.
Abruptly, he releases me and storms away, as if suddenly desperate to have me out of his sight.
