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N. A.
But why?
Why would Daniel keep this snow globe…for twenty-one years? He clearly said he didn’t.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that he actually kept it.
“Picked up a snooping habit, I see.”
My head jerks up and my throat closes.
Daniel stands in the entryway like a dark warrior in a dashing navy blue suit.
The clashing color of his clothes with his eyes would’ve been mesmerizing if he weren’t in the process of eating me alive with those eyes.
Tearing me to pieces.
Scrutinizing every part.
“Why…” My voice is an airy breath and I swallow in a helpless attempt to speak properly. “Why do you have this?”
He strides to me in a few quick steps, erasing the distance between us along with any semblance of sanity I was holding on to with chopped off, bloodied fingers.
Daniel grabs the snow globe, but I don’t release it, so it remains suspended between us.
“When I thought I lost it back then, I asked you if you’ve seen it and you said you threw it away. You told me to get over myself because this thing meant nothing.”
“It doesn’t.” The icy coldness of his tone doesn’t fool me anymore. I’m starting to think he uses it as a camouflage for something much deeper.
“If it means nothing, you wouldn’t have kept it for twenty-one years, Daniel.”
“It must’ve ended up with the rubbish.”
“Bullshit.” I square my shoulders.
“You might want to watch your language if you want to win the Prude of the Year award.”
“You’re not changing the subject.” My lips tremble. “Tell me why you still have this? Why did you lie about throwing it away?”
He purses his lips and a muscle tics in his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Did you lie about other things?” My voice is broken, thick with too many emotions. “Are there other lies I need to know about?”
“Let’s start with yours first.” He pulls the snow globe from between my fingers, throws it in the drawer, and slams it shut.
Then his big, hot hands wrap around my waist and the world slips from beneath my feet. He’s lifting me up, I realize, but before I can react, my butt meets the solid surface of the desk.
“W-what is this?”
“I specifically mentioned I was going to need answers when I got back. Start talking.”
My palms find his shoulders and I push, but I might as well be attempting to move a building. “Why do you want to know?”
“Don’t concern your smart brain with that. All you have to do is spit out the reason you acted that way when I touched you.”
I stare to the side. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Maybe I don’t fucking care about what you want.” His fingers dig into my sides. “Now look at me and speak. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
