“I think your T-shirt is backward.” I look down at the neckline of my jumper where the label of my top pokes out from beneath my sweater. I scowl at him. “Deliberate.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, his scent filling my nostrils as he leans toward me. “Given a rumor that we’re together holds up our dreams of being, oh, I don’t know…not in prison, maybe you should act like you’re not physically repulsed by me?” “This is me trying.”
