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I wrench my wrist away.
No, I’m not okay.
His face is annoying.
And is he wearing lip tint?
Why did the makeup artist make his mouth so distracting? As if it wasn’t plump enough before she applied it.
Men like Dare should not wear makeup, even if itistotally necessary for a photoshoot.
And my goodness—who!WHO decided to leave that crisp white shirt under his blazer unbuttoned? Honestly!
Have some shame.
I’m debating whether I should have a word with the wardrobe team when Dare suddenly lifts a hand and says two words without ever taking his eyes off me.
Just like that day on the mountain when everyone scattered at his command, the room empties out.
And this time, Jenny doesn’t stay.
I gulp, realizing we are totally alone.
Dare’s not smiling anymore. His lips a thinning slash in his face he signs, “We. Talk.”
It’s broken ASL.
Totally grammatically incorrect.
But I get the gist.
We need to talk.
And from his tense body language, whatever he says, I’m not going to like it.
CHAPTER11
a heart matter
DARE
I can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips.
Should probably let her go, but I won’t.
She might run away from me.
And I need her here.
Need her present.
All she has to do is turn her eyes away and I won’t be able to talk, so sure… she can control whether she pays attention to me or not, but I’m not releasing my grip until I get some eye contact.
Finally, she glances at me. Her eyelashes flicker and there’s a glint of fear in her expression. She looks away again and it’s gone, hidden behind the curtain of black waves that someone in hair and wardrobe should be paid extra for executing.
I’ve never met a woman who looked beautiful from every angle the way Yaya Williams does.
Every bat of her eyelashes is torture.
