At that thought, Annelise Valentine placed a hand against Jett Westgate's chest and gently pushed him away.
The swiftness of her shift from flustered to resolute surprised Jett Westgate.
He leaned in, his hand closing around her wrist, and gently pulled her back. "Valentine, don't pull away from me."
His voice dropped even lower, laced with an indefinable longing. "This whole time... I've missed you so much."
She couldn't break free, nor did she respond. She simply let him hold her wrist, maintaining a distant air.
So close, her gaze fell upon his neck.
There was a tattoo—a crooked, meandering line, to be precise. It had no aesthetic appeal whatsoever, looking more like a child's careless doodle. The ink was uneven, and the edges were slightly blurred.
She had given him that tattoo.
Up close, it was rather conspicuous.
Jett Westgate followed her gaze, glancing down before deliberately tilting his head to give her a better look. "The mark you left on me."
