For a moment, all I can do is stare down at my hands and imagine them on him, making him moan plant specifications in my ear. Eventually, I manage to say, “You have a good memory.” “You should teach me things, too, so I can remember them for you.” I look up sharply to find him focused on the bush, a sly little smile curving his mouth. That smile says he noticed the heat in my skin and the speed of my breaths. He knows that speech got to me. Which is kind of embarrassing, kind of useful. If he knows, maybe he’ll do it again.
