His face was still close. My lungs were refusing to breathe properly. Even my heart couldn't stop racing.
Then, just when I swore he was about to kiss me, his hand moved.
Not to my lips.
But to my hair.
A single strand had fallen across my cheek, and he tucked it behind my ear.
His fingers brushed my skin like he was doing it on purpose.
Heck, he literally didn't have any right to do that.
My pulse jumped.
Then, he smirked. "Wow. Look at you."
I jerked back, defensive. "What?"
"You're shaking," he whispered. "I can't believe you're actually trembling."
I widened my eyes. "No, I'm not."
His grin widened. "Oh my God. You thought I was gonna kiss you, didn't you?"
"I…what?!" My voice cracked. "Absolutely not!" My pitch went high.
"Please." His laugh came in cruel. "Don't lie. You were literally standing here with your lips all pouty, expecting me to kiss you? Never going to happen."
My face burned. "Shut up, Han."
