The woman standing before her was beautiful.
Mature, elegant, with dark hair and striking blue eyes and the kind of presence that made the room feel smaller. She wore a cream-colored coat over a black dress, and her face was bare of makeup, but she didn't need any. She was stunning.
Hazel's gaze flicked to Dom, who was standing behind his mother, making exaggerated faces, wide eyes, frantic hand gestures, mouthing something that looked like she's my mom, be cool, be cool.
Hazel's frown deepened.
She felt something twist in her chest. Something uncomfortable. Something she didn't want to name.
This beautiful, elegant woman standing in Dom's house, looking like she belonged here. And Dom, standing behind her, looking at Hazel with those dark eyes, trying to communicate something she couldn't quite understand.
