“Does that mean I’ll get to see you?” He glanced over at me. “From afar,” I said pointedly. “What if I happen to bump into you on the dancefloor?” “Dorian.” I glared at him. “I like it when you say my name with your cute accent. It sounds better your way.” He smirked, and it was tumultuous. The boyishness charm in his cheeks was deafening. I wanted to capture it, box it up, and hang it on a keychain so I didn’t have to face it again.
