She let out a small, startled gasp, her hands coming up to brace against my chest. Her skin was warm through the thin fabric of my shirt, and her signature perfume scent—vanilla—wrapped around me like a drug.
"Why aren't you talking to me?!" She blinked up at me, lips parting slightly.
"What?"
"You've barely said a word to me all morning," I murmured, my fingers tightening slightly on her waist. "Not even a glance. Not even when I was right there with you in the car."
She swallowed, her throat working as she tried to form words. "I–I was just… thinking."
I tipped my head down, my mouth a breath away from hers. "Thinking about what?"
She hesitated. "It's nothing."
Liar.
My fingers slid up her sides, feeling the way her breath hitched under my touch. "Jasmine." I cupped her chin, tilting her face up to mine. I wanted her to admit what was really going on in that pretty little head of hers. But I knew she wouldn't.
