Casually, he places his hand against my waist, and I suspect that this is the moment where he’s going to do something for the camera like in the fake dating books I’ve read, but instead, he just tucks me away, safely out of the line of the shot in a corner of romance books. Resting his elbow on a shelf, he cages me in there, plucks another novel, and flips through the pages. I have never been more attracted to a man in my life. Not that I’ve actually had any opportunities to be. But…still.
