Deans POV
If someone had told me twenty-four hours ago that I’d be standing in Margaux’s apartment holding her hand…
I’d have asked what they were smoking.
Yet here we are.
Her fingers are threaded through mine, warm and tight, and every time her thumb brushes my knuckle I forget how to form a sentence.
I’m not complaining.
Not even a little.
We kissed.
A few times...
And both times I nearly forgot my own name.
And unless I completely imagined the last fifteen minutes, I’m pretty sure I accidentally told her I want her.
Fuck.
I’m never living that one down.
I glance sideways.
She’s smiling at our hands like she can’t quite believe they’re real.
Cute.
I immediately decide I’m not saying that out loud.
She’d probably punch me.
“You done staring?” I ask.
Her eyes flick to
