I put my hand to my heart. “You wound me.” She glares and I frown. How have I become a bad guy overnight?

I shove my hands in my pockets again, feeling really freaking awkward. “You gonna show me around?”

Anora glances toward her house. “This is my house,” she says. “You saw it the other night when you creepily found it on your own.”

Yeah. Not scoring any points here. Things have definitely changed after last night.

At least I have a good excuse. “Hey, small town, remember? Everyone at school knows where you live.”

“Yeah, but they don’t drop by uninvited.”

She didn’t seem to mind the first time. I almost challenge her, but I’m not sure I want to hear her response.

She sighs. “Fine. Come on.”

I follow Anora inside. She leaves me in the entryway while she returns the salt to the kitchen. When she comes back, we stand facing each other.

“This is the living room.” She spreads out her arms and then lets them fall, slapping against her sides.

I raise my brows and maintain a smile. “Nice view.”

She turns, heading toward the stairs. They creak as we rise, and her mom calls from somewhere in the house, “Door open!”

Anora cringes, and I’m not sure it’s from embarrassment or the thought of kissing me. I’m really hoping it’s the former.

I follow Anora down the hallway. She turns and walks through a door on the right.

“This is my room,” she says.

I brush past her, the scent of roses and rosemary surrounding me as I observe her space. She has a twin bed with a purple comforter, and a four-drawer dresser sits opposite that. There are a couple of boxes in the middle of the floor she hasn’t unpacked yet, and the black telescope from the other night sits on a tripod near her window.

“Do you stargaze often?” I ask, already knowing the answer but noting several star posters pinned around her room.

“Sometimes. Mostly, it’s too bright.”

“How did you get started?”

She hesitates and then admits in a small voice. “My poppa. He bought me that telescope.” Her voice catches on the words, like she’s not used to saying them in past tense, and something far worse and bottomless opens up in my chest.

I frown. “I’m sorry,” I say and decide it’s best if I change the subject. I nod to the bookshelves on either side of her window. I knew she read a lot, just by the surveillance we’d conducted. “You have a lot of books.”

“It’s my goal to have the library in Beauty and the Beast one day.”

That makes me laugh. “If you could only take one of these with you to a desert island, which one would you bring?”