Neither one of us makes a move to separate. Our gazes lock and it’s like that day in the gym all over again. The air around us sizzles like we’re in a heatwave and not the dead of winter. His gaze trails over my face, one suspended second after another until it reaches my lips where it stills. An involuntary grin spreads across my face. “Damn. Those dimples. I’m sure the ladies eat their hearts out,” he says, voice sliding an octave. A heat-generating vibration spreads up my spine and unfolds into a tingling massage. He could say the sky’s blue in that velvety voice, and you’d think he was
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