Page 152 of Sweet Nightmare

“Don’t insult me.”

She laughs, thoroughly enjoying my suffering.

I sigh completely over them two of them already.

Mrs. Han pats my shoulder with a warm smile. “You did very well, dear.”

“Now, I know you’re lying.”

She looks sheepish. “Okay. At least you tried.”

“That is not significantly better.”

She laughs again, then looks at me with such genuine affection that something inside my chest shifts.

It’s small. Barely noticeable.

But it’s there.

“You’re as funny as you are beautiful.”

I stare at her like she’s grown a third eye.

No one’s ever called me funny before.

I also don’t know what to do with genuine affection when it arrives without an ulterior motive.

So I do what I always do.

I say nothing.

Then a voice comes from the doorway.

Low, rough and dangerously amused.

“Now this is a photo worthy of a front-page magazine.”

I freeze and every muscle in my body immediately stiffens.

Because I recognize that voice.

No.

Slowly, I turn around.

Stephen stands in the doorway wearing gray sweatpants and a dark red shirt, his tattooed forearms exposed. His hair is slightly messy, like he has only recently crawled out of bed. He looks unfairly good.

Which is deeply irritating.

His gaze drops to my flour-covered hands, then my shirt, then the disaster surrounding me.

Finally, his eyes return to my face.

His mouth twitches.

I point a flour-covered finger at him.

“Don’t.”