“You never annoy me,” he says. I look up, catch him watching me. My laugh is breathless, woozy. “We both know that’s not true.” He studies me for a second, brow furrowed. “Frustrate, maybe. Not annoy.” “What’s the difference?” I ask. His eyes drop to my legs and back up. “When you’re annoyed, you don’t want to be around a person.” His chin shifts to the left, not quite a shake of his head. “I always want to be around you.”
