The issue, Roan was quick to realize, did not lie within himself or his ears, but rather in the doe-eyed girl staring expectantly up at him, the violent flush coating her caramel skin, notwithstanding. “You want me to what?” He thought he sounded relatively calm despite the absurdity of the situation, but Roan wondered how long that would last in the face of Sophie’s boldness. She’d managed to leave him thoroughly speechless on three consecutive occasions in just the last few hours alone. Roan was averse to discover what else the eldest Grayson child had in store for him. They were unfortunately stuck in his apartment until the blizzard stopped. The meteorologist had said it could last a few more hours and even then, the predicted three feet of snow would be a bitch to clear through once it was all over. So he was stuck. They were stuck. Roan hadn’t minded until a few minutes ago. But now, he called himself ten types of fool for not driving Sophie home when he had the chance. “I want you to be my lover,”
