It almost hurt, how hard Tony was trying and how little difference it was making right now. She just looked at him, brows drawn together and mouth flat, no trace of the smiling, gently flirting girl left. “I’ve looked in the mirror. I don’t know what you’re looking at.”
“Summer, stop,” his voice turned warm and his eyes held a glint of sincerity. His thumb brushed softly against her cheek and he let out a quiet sigh. The urge to kiss her was increasing with the tension but he held back, not wanting her to think it out of pity. “I’m serious.”
She fell silent, holding his eyes, that little frown still marking her forehead. The warmth of his hand was kind, but she resisted turning her face into it. If touching him while projecting happiness to him risked a bond, how much greater a risk was this? Closing her eyes, she built more shields, until she couldn’t feel anything but her own desperate tangle.
Summer let herself look back at Tony, eyes flicking over his face, imagining briefly what it might be like if he was interested in her. Softly, she repeated, “I don’t know what you’re looking at.”