*Who did this?*

The moment his eyes landed on me, I could see the shift in his expression. He was halfway to me when he froze, his gaze sweeping over me like a storm ready to break. His jaw tightened, and his lips pressed into a hard line.

"Val," he said my name in a way that brought out his actual Italian accent, and that would've turned me on if my head didn't hurt like a bitch. His sounded controlled, yet full of something I couldn’t quite place—anger or concern, or both.

I stayed ...