But when I looked up at Jackson again, I found him watching me with less arrogance and more uncertainty clouding his expression. “What?” I asked. He hesitated for a beat. “You’re a fan of the show, correct?” “Yes. Sure.” The show. Daniel’s generously tattooed biceps and chin dimple. Same dif. “Shall we go?” His fingers curled around my arm, making me pause midstep. “And you have a picture of that guy on your laptop... because he won. And he’s a famous sushi chef... and you like sushi. That’s all.”
LMAOOOOO HE ABOUT TO BE JEALOUS
