“Thank you.” He takes the tickets and angles toward me, giving me a perfect view of the way his eyes sparkle and his megawatt smile takes over his entire face. “I hope you have a fantastic day.”

Giggles burst through the plexiglass and the girl’s pale cheeks turn a deep shade of scarlet. He doesn’t seem to notice as he slips his card back into his wallet and hands me my ticket.

I take the ticket from him, way too fascinated by the way that little scene played out to focus on anything else.

“You’re like . . .” I look back to the still-reddened teen who’s staring at Jasper’s back despite helping another person. “A teenage-girl slayer.”

“Oh god.” He cringes. “Please never say that again. I’m pretty sure if an officer was nearby and heard you say that, I’d already be in cuffs. I don’t want to be a teenage-girl slayer of any kind.”

Since Gran passed away, I have picked up a new habit of listening to podcasts about serial killers. This is wonderful because they’re super interesting and give me something to listen to besides my own thoughts. It’s the worst because I’m a certified scaredy-cat. There have been more than a few nights when I slept with all the lights in my apartment on. I’m pretty sure there was one about a teenage-girl slayer.

“Yeah, you’re right. I didn’t even realize how that sounded until you said something.” I agree with him as we enter the park. “But you did get her very worked up.”

The wording was wrong; my point still stands. I don’t know if teenage girls these days still have physical diaries or if they just type all their feelings onto Beyoncé’s internet—a thought that makes me feel as old as some of the fossils found in the mountains surrounding us—but she’s for sure going to write about Jasper somewhere.

He looks over his shoulder to the girl in the booth and his thick eyebrows knit together. “Did I?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice.

I blink at him, unable to speak because there’s no way he didn’t notice how he affected that girl. Imagine being so hot that over-the-top reactions to your physical perfection are so common, you don’t even notice when they happen.

What must it be like to not even be aware you wield such power? He seems completely unaware to the havoc his smile wreaks on all of those who cross his path. I have to force myself to remember this because after spending the morning with him, it’s easy to fall prey to the fantasy of Jasper saving all his smiles for me.

Before I can unpack this any more, shuttle buses appear in my line of vision and allow me to change the subject.