“Emory.” His voice made my name sound silky smooth.
I met his eyes. His head was c****d slightly to the side, as if he were trying to read me. His dark eyes looked concerned yet didn’t lack in intensity.
“I’m sorry,” I admitted quickly, licking my lips which had suddenly become dry. “I'm such an i***t. I told you I don’t know how to do this.” My words were thick with emotion and extreme mortification.
“You were doing just fine.” He picked up the glass of water, took a big sip to prove he had no devious plan to drug me, then offered it to me. “Take the glass, Emory. It’s safe. I’m safe. I promise. But don't just take my word for it, ask Paul. Text him.”
“He gave me the thumbs-up sign, so I have to assume you’re not a dangerous criminal,” I replied.
“Dangerous, maybe, but not to you. Ne
