"I don't even know if you know the first thing about wooing a woman, Zach."
I scoff, throwing her a look of mock offense. "Have you met me?"
I drop my hand, leaning in just enough to crowd her space, my voice lowering into something smooth and teasing. "Guess that means I'll have to take it as a challenge. So, you better prepare yourself, because I plan on giving you the best damn wooing of your life."
My hands rise almost on instinct, sliding along her jaw until my palms are framing her face.
"I'm going to clean up my reputation, prove to you that I only ever have eyes for you. Prove I'm the kind of guy who deserves to be with you — so don't bother fighting it when you start falling for me all over again."
Her lips press together, holding back a smile, and it's a damn miracle I don't drag her into my arms right then just to see it break free.
My gaze traces over every inch of her face like I've been starving for it — because I have. I missed this.
Missed seeing her like this. Her lashes flutter, her eyes flicking anywhere but mine, like she can't handle the heat in my stare.
Her cheeks are pink now, warm and soft. A dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose makes the whole thing unfair.
She looks like trouble and sunrise all at once.
My heart does a somersault in my chest, a full-on flip that leaves me dizzy.
It feels like I've been plugged straight into a live wire, jolts ripping through me, too much and not nearly enough all at once.
She's trying so hard not to look at me, not to give me the satisfaction — but she is. She's giving me everything in this moment.
And I can't wait to see more. All of it.
Every expression she tries to hide, every flush of pink in her cheeks, every smile she bites back. I want to coax every single one of them out until she can't hold anything back from me anymore.
"Only one favor, though..."
Her eyes finally meet mine. "A favor?"
"Mmhm."
"What is it?"
"If I can do it — if I can earn even a fraction of that trust back — will you agree to go on a date with me?"
I hold up one finger. "Just one. That's all I'm asking."
"I'll consider it," she says, her voice soft but sure. "If you earn it. But don't think for a second I'm going to make it easy for you."
A laugh escapes me. "Wouldn't want it any other way."
And then she smiles — unguarded, soft, and so beautiful it feels illegal.
Everything inside me detonates. Whatever rush was already in my veins multiplies until it's a roaring, dizzying thing, like my heart just lit a match and set my whole chest on fire.
It's too much, too wild, too good — and I want to live in this exact second forever.
God, if she keeps smiling at me like that, I might actually start believing in miracles. Hell, I'll pray to every god, saint, and random deity I can think of, light a candle for each one, build shrines, offer up whatever sacrifices I can find — hell, I'd bargain away my soul if it meant she'd keep looking at me like this. The way she used to.
And then more — until she's glowing so bright the whole world knows I'm the one who put that there.
Yeah, okay — maybe the soul-offering part's a little much. Not actually signing over my afterlife or anything. But you get it — I'm so far gone for her I'd probably thank the devil for the contract.
I'm still reeling, my chest too full, my pulse refusing to settle.
