I dared to look at him, and he angled his face toward me, his eyes searching mine in the low light from the candles and television. He reached out, sweeping my hair behind one ear, though it was a tentative, unsure touch.

“You’ve smiled so much tonight,” he commented.

He cued another one with that. “It’s been a great night.”

“You should smile like this all the time. You should have a boyfriend who makes you happy, Giana.”

I swallowed, and without warning, tears glossed my eyes.

Shawn moved in, closing the space between us as his eyes flicked to my lips. “Let me be the one to make you happy,” he whispered.

And then, he kissed me.

A little flash of excitement and desire shot through me at the first contact, and I sucked in a breath, meeting his gentle kiss with one of equal measure.

But in the next moment, I felt…

Weird.

He smelled wrong, tasted wrong. His lips were too soft, his hands too weak where they held me. He didn’t possess me, didn’t wrap me up in all that he was with that kiss. I didn’t feel anything, other than curious over what the difference was.

Maybe I just wasn’t focused.

I mentally dragged my full attention to him, kissing him with more earnest. That made him groan, and I smiled in victory as he pressed into me a little harder, leaning me back until my head hit the arm of his couch and he settled in on top of me.

He was hard.

I felt it against my thigh, but again, I couldn’t focus on anything other than that it didn’t feel right.

Stop comparing to Clay, I warned myself, wrapping my arms around Shawn’s neck and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

I wanted this. I wanted Shawn. He had been my obsession all last year. I’d dreamed of this, of what it would be like to have him want me, to have him kiss me and hold me.

But now that I had it…

I tried and tried to make my brain shut off, to chase away every comparison that flew at me. But it was useless. Every kiss was lacking, cold and awkward compared to the heated ones I’d shared with Clay. Every touch was wrong, every roll of his hips against me made me wince in pain more than writhe in need.

Emotion strangled my throat as I tried with desperate kisses to feel something, anything, other than a longing sadness for what I’d lost. But it was useless.

I didn’t want Shawn.

I didn’t want anyone who wasn’t Clay.

I sniffed against a sob, pressing my hands into Shawn’s chest and stopping him before he could trail kisses down my neck. “Shawn, wait.”