“Do a lot of men look at you like this?” Timofey’s pupils are blown wide, the black eating away the ocean blue. He hasn’t moved any closer, but there is less air between us. It’s like negative pressure. Like I’m being drawn into him.
“No one has ever looked at me the way you do.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t care, though.
He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts my face up to his. “Do you want me to take care of you, Piper?”
It’s not just me being dirty-minded this time. He’s saying exactly what I think he’s saying.
“I—What do you—Do you even care about me?” Every question churning inside of me tries to get out at once.
“Well, you aren’t dead. So that has to mean something.” There’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and I realiz
