Lara-Jean POV
The Thai food is good. The movie is terrible. And Peter Kavinsky is watching me like I'm the most interesting thing in the room.
I've noticed him doing this lately—staring when he thinks I'm not looking. Not in a creepy way. In an I can't believe you're real way.
"You're doing it again," I say without looking away from the screen.
"Doing what?"
"Staring."
A pause. "I wasn't staring. I was appreciating."
I laugh. "Same thing."
"Different intention."
I turn to look at him. He's close—closer than I realized. Those silver-blue eyes are soft, warm, slightly vulnerable.
"Can I tell you something?" he asks.
"Always."
He takes my hand. His thumb traces circles on my palm.
"I've never apologized before. Not really. Not for something that mattered."
I wait.
"Growing up
