Salvatore froze. His hand, which had been resting on the stair railing, remained completely still. He slowly turned his head to look back down at the young man standing on the step below him.
Milo was completely motionless, his breath caught tight in his chest. His hazel eyes were wide, and the deep, sudden flush that had crept up his neck now covered his face entirely.
The moment the question had left his lips, a wave of stark panic had hit him. He had not meant to say it. The words had been driven entirely by his enthusiasm. But when he saw Salvatore's expression, he regretted it.
What did he say?
Salvatore turned his body fully, his massive frame blocking out the light from the hallway chandelier and casting a heavy shadow over Milo.
Salvatore was a man who had more experience with people's characters than most. He was intensely aware of the shift in Milo's demeanor over the last few days, the lingering looks, the sudden blushes, and the quiet desperation to be useful.
