Tracy Wolff - From the Beginning

There. There she was. Thank God for the delay at the taxi stand. Amanda was still five people away from getting a cab.

Weaving through the crowd, he came up on her left side. “Thanks for getting in line,” he told her nonchalantly, as he cupped her elbow with his hand.

She whirled to face him, lips tight and eyes completely blank. The blankness frightened him. He’d always been able to tell where he stood, where Amanda was emotionally, by looking into her eyes. She’d never been one to hide her emotions away, so whatever she felt—happiness, anger, sorrow, confusion—shone brightly in the varying shades of gray.

Now there was nothing. He didn’t know if it was because she’d finally found a way to lock her emotions down deep inside her or if it was because she really didn’t feel anything. Either way, it didn’t bode well for her or the tattered remnants of the relationship he’d been hoping to salvage.

“I would suggest going to the back of the line,” she told him woodenly. “Because you are not sharing a cab with me.”

“Of course I am. How else are you going to find my apartment?”

A flash of surprise in those glorious eyes. Finally. “Why exactly would I need to know where your apartment is?”

“Because you’ll be staying with me.”

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