I realize I’m watching his mouth while he speaks like I’m some kind of weirdo. I force my eyes up to his. They’re such a deep blue, it’s like looking into the ocean. My gaze drops back down, watching the way the corners of his lips curve around certain syllables. Then his nose scrunches and his whole face follows, eyes squinting as his brow furrows. Even his mouth pinches slightly.
I press my lips together, trying to ignore the fact my chest has become a drum and my heart’s the drumstick. Do not kiss your coworker at a mall food court while you’re shopping for his brother.
I’m close enough to him that I can easily smell the cinnamon and bergamot of his cologne. There’s a soft breeze that almost makes it feel like a proper autumn instead of like it’s still eighty in Florida. I suck in a
