“You’re not helping me feel any less trapped than I already do, Aaron.”

Again, he shrugged. Again, Rosa took a step forward.

“And you’re not as unaffected by all this as you’re pretending.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, clasping her wrist just before her hand reached his face. Somehow she’d closed the distance between them as she’d said her last words without him noticing.

“I’m trying to show you that you’re not as aloof as you believe,” she said, and dropped her hand with a triumphant smile. “I told you.”

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t do so without telling her that she was right, and unaffected was the last thing he felt. But he showed her. Slid an arm around her waist and hauled her against him.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, his voice slightly breathless. “Maybe I was thinking about the first time we kissed.” He dipped his head lower. “You remember.”

It wasn’t a question. And the way her breath quickened—the way her hand shook as she wiped the rain from her brow—confirmed it to him.