“Chris, you don’t even know me.”
His eyes snap back to mine, bright and alive. My mouth feels dry. “You really think so?” Then I lose the ability to breathe. He gets so close that his breath tickles my cheek. He murmurs, “I think you forgot the things that have been said on that raft.”
Goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold breeze cover my skin. That sounds about right, and I hate that he is.
“I saw you, Faye,” he continues, leaning away enough to meet my eyes.
I lift my chin defiantly. “Just because you saw me vulnerable doesn’t mean you know me.”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “Is that true?”
I don’t know.
“I may not know things like your favorite color, but I know enough.” He pauses, his eyes holding a promise. “For now.”