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“Oranges,” I murmured. “My shampoo,” Wit murmured back. “I love oranges.” “So you love me.”
so cute 🥺
“You’re very affectionate,” he said, gaze catching mine. “You know that?”
stop it. 🥹
Wit said it—his voice. It was gentle, honest, intimate. How could it be that intimate? We’d just met.
“You’re affectionate, too,” I murmured, and when Wit looked at me, I smiled. “Just an observation.”
“I want to tell you something,” I said, my voice shaking some. “But you have to swear not to tell anyone.” Wit was quiet. My heart hammered. “Okay?” “Okay.” He nodded and held out his pinkie. “I swear.”
I’ve been there.” He twined more of our fingers together. We were nearly holding hands. “I’ve been there…”
Wit smirked. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” I blushed. His smirk spread into a crooked grin. I kissed it.
“I wouldn’t have been on your arm.”
“You would’ve been on mine.”
How did we only have four days left?
“But I’m a Witry, not a Dupré.” He nudged me. “And we’re partners in crime.”
And I knew why.
His turquoise eyes widened while the rest of his face went slack. “Stephen,” I said firmly. “Run.”
“You’re wicked,” I said. “You go wild for it,”
“I don’t want Eli.” His hands went to my waist. “I want you.”
“Hey, Stephen!” I called, and two seconds later, I was right next to him. I grinned, took his hand, and said, “Tell me more about New Zealand.”
