Alice could barely breathe. It felt like she was already standing in the aftermath of a silent explosion. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she couldn't tell whose funeral it was. His? Hers? Maybe both.
She stared at him, dumbfounded, her face still tingling with leftover embarrassment and something far more dangerous. Hotter. Needier. Stupid.
Pervert? Her?
Her mouth parted, a protest forming. What was she supposed to say? 'Sorry for feeding you popcorn and slapping you because I got scared that you ate it sexy'? No. Absolutely not.
He didn't look at her again. He simply faced the screen with perfect indifference, as if she hadn't just offered him snacks and violence in the span of ten seconds. But Alice couldn't stop stealing glances. The way he leaned back casual, at ease. The tilt of his head. The flicker of amusement that ghosted across his features whenever he blinked too slowly. It was as if her slap had intrigued him. As if he liked it.
