I turned, blinking at him.
“What?”
He was leaning against the counter, his arms folded, head tilted slightly, the corners of his lips curved into something that looked casual but felt... tighter. His eyes didn’t leave mine. That weird little glint was back in them.
“Creepy much?” I said, rolling my eyes, but I felt it — the slow creep of heat crawling up my neck. “We are close. She’s my best friend.”
He nodded slowly like he was cataloguing that information, filing it away into some mental stalker drawer labeled 'Tessa: threat level moderate'.
“You’re blushing,” he added, voice maddeningly calm.
I scoffed. “Shut up. I am not.”
He said nothing. Just smiled. That tiny little, smug-ass smirk like he knew something I didn’t.
I turned back around, and continued eating.
It was actually…
