I didn’t notice that Dawson had moved until he was standing in front of me. Not realizing how close we were, I peered up at him, his face inches from mine as he looked at me with a curious expression.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured.
He picked up a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear making my skin tingle. I felt my heart rate pick up, any coherent thought flying away. His eyes seemed brighter, like amethyst, as they searched my own and I couldn’t look away. He leaned closer, our noses almost touching and I could smell orange and clove. My breath hitched. I glanced down at his lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss them. Would they be as soft as they looked? My cheeks flushed at the thought.
“Are you blushing?” he said, pulling away, lip twitching.
“I… I’m not,” I stammered.
His shoulders started to shake.
“Are you laughing?” I said, my embarrassment ebbing into a cold fury.
“I’m trying really hard not to, buttercup,” he said finally cracking up, his deep laugh filling the room.
I smacked his arm and glared.
“Ow, what was that for?” he said delightedly.
“You are insufferable!” I snapped.
How could I have ever thought kissing him was a good idea? I was outraged at myself for even entertaining the notion.
“You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re this angry,” he said, eyes twinkling.
“I hate you,” I said, stalking off to my bedroom and slamming the door.