Meeting the Mother

POV: First-person.

Her lips part. She stares up at me, the bold defiance in her green eyes faltering for a fraction of a second as the raw memory of Vegas flashes between us. But she recovers fast. The momentary vulnerability vanishes, and her eyes narrow into a sharp, challenging glare.

"Maybe I'm just good at faking it," she retorts, pulling her face away from my touch.

I look over her flush