Lilah finally brings a seat for him. She places it right beside me, but opposite, so he’s facing me.
He sits down. His black combat pants brush against the bare skin of my legs and every single hair on my skin stands up.
My eyes slowly trace his body, all the way up to his face.
He isn't wearing those black business suits like he usually does. He’s wearing a casual short-sleeve black top that makes his arm muscles look even more defined.
He takes my hand and lifts it, observing my new nails like it's a science experiment.
"You used to like them red. Longer, pointier," he says. Every word gives me a deep rumble in my chest.
"So... you like this?" He asks, pointing my own nails to my face.
"How... how did you get here? Are you following me?" I ask. My voice sounds stupidly small. I
