“Mr. Bennett, would you care to explain the metaphor in this passage?” she asked, turning to Christian with that oh-so-innocent smile that seemed completely unaware of the tension simmering between us.
Christian, however, was far too busy trying not to look Aaron directly in the eyes. His focus was completely shot—his gaze darting nervously, shifting every time Aaron casually adjusted his posture or tapped his pen, a rhythm that was getting louder with every passing second.
Aaron, of course, had the complete opposite reaction. He was stretched out lazily in his seat, his arm casually resting on the back of my chair, fingers brushing my shoulder just enough to send a jolt of warmth through me. But it wasn’t his touch that had Christian shaking. No, it was the dangerous, unbothered air aro
