“I can’t decide what version of you I like best,” he whispers. I swallow. “What do you mean?” A chill races down my arms with the brushing of his thumb against my swollen bottom lip. “The fun, flirty version of you when you’re teasing me…” Rhys’s hooded eyes move back and forth between mine. “Or this version… the one where your cheeks turn a bright pink when I look at your lips, because you know I want them on mine. Or how you keep nervously looking away because you realize you’re starting to like the way I stare at you from across the room.”
