A second passed with no answer from Don. He knew it wasn't long enough to matter, but it felt like it was. Especially with the way her gaze lingered on him—steady, not quite piercing, but enough to make his brain spin in slow circles.
Not intense… but almost. And that was the problem.
He considered saying something, "well…."—but that was as far as it got. His tongue stopped there, lodged against his teeth like a brick wall.
Complimenting her figure outright? That would've been suicide. Eye-catching… sure, it was. But saying it would set fire to this careful, brittle balance.
Denying it outright? Please. They'd both know it was a lie, and she'd see right through him like glass in sunlight.
A middle ground didn't exist. Not in this conversation. Not with her.
