He assesses me in a quick sweep, and his smile stretches. He knows I’m coming towards him. I mean, I’m not hiding the fact, but Christ, that widening smile—the one that reaches cheek-to-cheek and is too teasing, too confident—it bugs the hell out of me. I scowl into a glare, only five feet away, and I bypass his spot, sensing his gaze attached to me as I round his body. I decide to stand in the line right beside him where people wait for hand-dipped candy apples. The sweet scent permeates around me, and the movie is more muffled over here.
They seriously are my favorite
