Ren's hand was on my back, rubbing small circles, as I coughed out what was left of my dignity.
"Breathe, Juney," he said softly, still patting my back.
His voice calm in that annoying way that made me even more flustered.
I nodded, coughing between laughs. "I'm fine… I just choked on air or something."
"You sure?"
"Mm-hmm," I squeaked, avoiding eye contact.
Then his gaze shifted, and before I could process, he said, "Hold still."
And of course, my dumb brain froze.
He reached forward, thumb hovering near my mouth. "You've got sauce, here."
Before I could grab a napkin, he lifted the edge of his shirt, up his stomach, and started wiping it off. With his shirt.
I gasped.
My eyes went straight to his pale skik…his abs, the little trail of hair, the way his wrist flexed…And down his…
Nope. Absolutely not.
I jumped up so fast the chair made this loud screech sound against the floor.
"Woa…what are you doing?!" he laughed.
