“No. But I’m learning it’s a bad thing when you’re so focused on what you think you want that you don’t see what’s right in front of you,” I reply slowly. Sebastian’s fork freezes for just a fraction of a second, his fingers seeming to tighten on the utensil, his eyes flicking up to mine. The second our gazes clash, it’s like that first day on the sidewalk all over again, all crackle and butterflies and Frank Sinatra.
