He sighs in defeat. “Are you sure?” “Out of your head, Griffith,” I tease him, tugging on his shirt until he meets me halfway for a kiss. “Overthinking won’t get you anywhere.” A sly, knowing smirk stretches his lips as he pecks me again. “Turning the tables, I see.” I simply shrug, waiting for the line. When he realizes that, he chuckles. “My head is always in the game, Underwood.”
