don’t smile back.
I smile back.
And then we don’t say anything,
just stare at each other,
drowning in the silence, at ease.
Then again on exhale?—
“Allison.”
Softer this time.
Breathing it instead of saying it.
His smile fades, but doesn’t vanish.
“Yeah…
“somethin’ about it doesn’t sit right.”
I half-laugh. “Doesn’t sit right?”
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t fit.”
I stare at him, he keeps staring back.
His expression?
Unshaken. Unhurried. Unwritten.
Mine?
Brick wall. Midtown attitude.
Classic New York.
Finally, I humor him.
“So what—you sayin’ my name doesn’t exactly make your mouth water? ‘Cause you just said it, what? Seven times now.”
His grin kicks up.
“So you been keepin’ count?”
I roll my eyes,
pretend heat’s not crawling up my neck.
But he’s got his gaze caught on me, watching.
“Allison…” he says slow,
then suddenly—“More like a Sonny…”
The name hits me, a fist to the chest.
