The sun was warm, but it wasn’t what had my skin tingling—it was you. I tilted my head, letting my hair fall forward just enough to catch your eyes beneath it. The hem of my dress brushed against my thighs with the breeze, but I didn’t move to fix it. I wanted you to look.

You were standing there, pretending not to stare, and I could almost hear your thoughts tripping over themselves. So I leaned in a little—not enough to close the space, but enough for you to feel it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, voice soft but teasing, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.