I kicked Dylan lightly. "So your main focus on me is just my waist?"
Dylan didn't seem the least bit bothered by my aggression. "Is it weird to notice you? Do you even realize how much you stand out?"
I wasn't sure how other girls dealt with having someone's eyes on them, but for some reason, I felt an unexpected heat rising in me. Dylan was still gesturing with his hands, estimating some kind of measurement. He glanced at them, then at me—still sitting on his bed—before hesitating.
"Have you lost weight?" he asked.
"Why don't you measure for yourself?" I shot back, my tone sharp, hoping to kill this embarrassing conversation on the spot.
I should've known better. Dylan had never been great at picking up on signals. The moment the words left my mouth, his hands landed on my waist—bold
