Cassie rushed to the room. Her chest pounding, she closed the door, went straight to bed, and covered herself with a blanket. Seriously, she feels like a graduating student defending a thesis in front of the rudest professor on the face of the earth. Then, she is unable to speak because her theory is irrelevant, and she does not study. That's how she feels. It's disorienting.
Is it right for him to ask a woman like her those things?
He should wait for her to confess, not the one who will corner her and force her to confess.
'Why doesn't he flirt with me? Then he asked if I loved him too?'
'You are so insensitive, Blake Moretti!'
Cassie's entire personality was disappearing. She suddenly got up and threw a pillow at his photo hanging on the wall.