Ava’s Point of View
I am dying.
Actually dying.
That is the only explanation for whatever is happening to my body right now.
Because there is absolutely no reason for me to be this aware of someone simply sitting next to me.
And yet, every single nerve ending in my body seems completely focused on Damon.
On the heat radiating off him.
On the way his arm brushes the couch cushion next to mine every now and then.
On the smell of soap and something distinctly him wrapping around me every time he shifts slightly.
I stare very hard at the TV.
Very.
Hard.
Like my life depends on it, but unfortunately, my brain does not cooperate.
Because instead of paying attention to the movie, all I can think about is the fact that Damon’s thigh is barely five cm away from mine.
Which is ridiculo
