directly into my open mouth, and I crunch down on it with a smirk. “Bullseye,” Alex says smugly. “That can’t be that hard.” I reach for a piece, and he opens his mouth. But apparently, it’s not as easy as he made it look. My first try bounces off his nose, the next his chin, a few graze the rim of his mouth before tumbling onto his lap. The fact that he’s laughing hysterically and not even attempting to hold still doesn’t help matters, and by the sixth or seventh try, I’m not even genuinely trying to get them
