I stared at him for the longest moment before letting my thumb brush over his knuckles. “You scared, Blake?”

“Of you?”

“Of this.”

He just smirked in response.

Without a word, he rounded the car, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes as he pulled open the passenger door and reached into the glove compartment.

I watched him from the corner of my eye, trying to focus on anything other than him, but he made it impossible.

A moment later his hand emerged with a Polaroid camera clutched in his grip. He raised it to his eye and snapped a picture. A flash exploded in front of me. I squinted, barely catching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he winked.

“You never stop with that thing, do you?” I muttered, blinking against the bright spots clouding my vision. My voice was laced with irritation—or at least, I hoped that’s all he could hear. Anything to drown out the heat creeping up my neck.

He shrugged. “Gotta capture the moment, B.”

“Why?” I asked.

He lowered the camera a little, tilting his head at me like I was the one being ridiculous. “Why do you think, Beverly?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, willing my heartbeat to slow down, but it didn’t listen. “You should really watch the movie, though.”

Blake leaned back on his palms, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I already know how it ends.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I nudged his knee with mine, shifting closer. “You’re missing all the good parts.”

“I’m looking at the best part.”

I blinked. Once. Twice.

Then I frowned, trying to process what he’d just said, but my mind felt a little scrambled. Blake wasn’t the type to throw compliments around. To just say things like that.

Blake chuckled dryly. “Speechless?”

I huffed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across my cheeks. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Don’t get all shy on me.”

I dragged in a slow breath. “You know what I think, Blake?”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Hmm?”

I reached over and hooked my fingers into the sleeve of his hoodie, tugging him closer. “I think you secretly enjoy it when I bother you every day.”

Blake huffed a quiet laugh, his head tilting just enough for our noses to nearly brush. “I think you wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t bothering me.”

My fingers curled tighter around his hoodie.

“I think,” I whispered, “I want to kiss you.”

Blake’s smirk faltered. “Beverly.” His voice was strained, like he was warning himself more than me.

“What?”

“We’re not doing this.”

“We could, though.”

His eyes darkened. “No.”

I let out a slow, shaky breath. “You’re a coward.”

“And you’re a brat.”