I was reaching for a book when his hand brushed against mine.

"Sorry," he said, but he didn’t move his hand right away.

I glanced at him—a little smirk, eyes filled with mischief.

"Didn’t take you for the type to read this," he teased, tapping the cover.

I raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you think I read?"

His lips quirked up. "Something a little… darker."

I scoffed, grabbing the book, but he was still close, still watching me like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"You always flirt in bookstores?" I asked, stepping back toward the shelves.

He followed. "Only when I find someone worth flirting with."

The tension was thick, and when he finally reached out, fingers trailing down my arm before tugging me in closer, I didn’t pull away. His lips hovered near mine, barely a whisper of space between us.

"You gonna let me kiss you, or are you gonna make me work for it?"

I grinned. "Guess you’ll have to find out."

And when his lips finally met mine? Yeah, he found out real fast.