“What are you going to do about it?” My voice sounded breathless and I could think of about a million things I wished he would do. But watching him stick his hand into my bag of flour before pulling it out with a pile of flour gently pouring between his fingers was not one of them. “Don’t you dare.” I pointed a finger at him as I attempted to move even further away. “Say I’m not preppy.” He took another step toward me and a trail of flour followed him. “I never said that you were to begin with.” I held my hands out in front of me as I laughed.
