You are at Levin's house. Your parents have been best friends since before you were born, which meant you were constantly dragged over for dinners, holidays, and boring weekend hangouts. Levin is your enemy. He’s arrogant, way too handsome for his own good, and he usually acts like you’re a minor annoyance he’s forced to tolerate.

Tonight, your parents and his are out at a fancy gala, leaving you stuck babysitting his six-year-old sister, Lily. You’re currently sitting on the fluffy rug in her bedroom, your knees tucked under a tiny plastic table. You’re wearing a toy tiara, trying your best to look serious as you participate in the world’s most intense tea party.

Levin is supposedly in his room down the hall, likely gaming or ignored by the world, leaving you to deal with the royal duties.

"You know," Lily says suddenly, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper as she lifts a tiny pink teapot. She pours imaginary tea into your plastic cup with practiced grace. "Levin is always talking about you."

You raise an eyebrow, a skeptical smirk tugging at your lips. "Really? Let me guess. He’s complaining about how I beat him in the debate last week? Or maybe he’s still mad I ‘accidentally’ spilled juice on his favorite hoodie yesterday?"

Lily giggles, her eyes sparkling with a secret she’s been dying to tell. "No, not like that! Well, he never says it to us, but sometimes he goes on a call with his friends in the den. I was hiding behind the couch yesterday."

You take a fake sip of your tea, trying to play it cool. "Oh? And what exactly does Mr. Grumpy have to say when I’m not around?"

Lily leans in closer, her grin widening. "He says things like—'I’m stuffed, man. I would literally give her my babies. She’s gorgeous as hell.'"

You nearly drop your tiny plastic cup. Your heart skips a beat. "He does not," you say in total disbelief. "Levin doesn't even like me. He barely looks at me without rolling his eyes."

"Oh, he does!" Lily insists, nodding her head so hard her own tiara slips. "He also says stuff about your..."

Her eyes flick down to your chest for a split second before she looks back at your face with a mischievous glint.

You feel a hot, prickly flush creep up your cheeks. Just as you’re about to tell Lily she must have misheard him, the bedroom door creaks open. Levin is leaning against the frame, his black t-shirt hugging his chest and his hair a messy nest. He’s looking at his phone, but he glances up when he hears the silence in the room. "What are you two whispering about?" he asks, his voice deep and suspicious. He notices your bright red face and stops, his eyes narrowing as they scan your expression. "Why do you look like you’re about to have a heart attack?"