"Would you say the same if it were my cousin pursuing you?" Nigel asked, his tone quieter now, carrying a trace of something heavier beneath it.
The question caught me off guard. For a split second, something flickered through my mind—an image of Elliot Presgrave, not restrained, not patient, but relentless in the way he pressed forward, ignoring rejection as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. He wasn't like Nigel at all. Where Nigel held back, Elliot advanced. Where Nigel respected boundaries, Elliot tested them.
That difference lingered in my silence.
Nigel noticed.
