“What’s happening?”
“We’re going into the event.” He gives me another yank.
“You’re holding my hand.” There’s a rightful note of horror in my tone.
“Is that a problem?”
“Why are you holding my hand?” It occurs to me that I haven’t pulled away, but that’s beside the point.
Byron releases me and I’m struck by a loss I don’t understand. “Was that too much for you? Guess I should’ve asked before doing it.”
“I dunno.” My gaze is fastened onto the empty space where his fingers fit snugly against mine. “It’s very… normal.”
There’s a sudden semi-sweet kindness in his chocolate-colored eyes. “You don’t like to be touched.”
“I don’t,” I confirm. That soft spot in his stare has me admitting more. “But I like it when you touch me.”
He stills, giving me a slow once-over that feels like hot wax dripping on my skin. “Are you warming up to me?”
My mouth drops. “Absolutely not.”
His lips curl into a devastating grin. “I think you are.”
“Well, you better think again,” I fire back.
Byron laughs, loud and carefree. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he allows the amusement to spread. Even his teeth seem to sparkle. Damn, he’s such a sexy man.
I grant myself permission to devour the visual, which unleashes a reckless heat in my lower belly. But rather than traveling south, the pooling desire rushes north. There’s a swooping sensation doing an acrobatic routine in my gut. It steals my breath for a minute.
“Something strange is going on,” I mutter and rest a palm flat over the attacked area.
A naughty gleam sparks in his gaze. “Am I giving you butterflies, menace?”
I snort. “Not a chance. Fuck butterflies and all that fluffy shit, remember?”
He rubs his bearded chin. “That was before we got to know each other. Now you’re swooning over me.”
“Get real. I don’t…” But that weird dip takes another nosedive in my stomach. “No way.”
Unharnessed joy brightens his expression until it’s nearly blinding. “I’m growing on you.”
“Like black mold.”
Byron shakes his head. “You’re glad we’re on a date.”
“I’m not.”
“You like me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” he croons. He’s clearly getting a kick out of this. “Some parts more than others, but the whole package is crushin’ on me.”
The traitorous swarm buzzes in my belly again. “I’ll admit to twat flutters. She’s easy to please.”
His unwavering stare isn’t letting me wriggle free. “Nah, it’s more than that. Your heart and mind want in on the fun.”
My pulse leaps in agreement. Thoughts of us in a committed relationship quickly follow. I don’t even know what that looks like. It’s all wonky and jagged, but there’s an image forming in the uncertainty.