Mika could feel it, the way Yelena's body quivered in his arms, hot enough that she seemed to be steaming, as though he was hugging a living furnace.
Her cheek pressed into his shoulder, her breath shaky and uneven, and he swore he could feel the frantic drum of her heartbeat through her chest against his.
He'd seen her flustered before, embarrassed when teased or frustrated when provoked, but this was something entirely different.
This was deeper. Her body trembled, her skin burned, and she clung to him as though his words alone had stripped her of all composure.
And for Mika, that realization made something coil in his chest with dangerous satisfaction.
'This is it. The first step. She's not looking at me like a boy anymore...she's seeing me as a man.'
But there was a problem. He wanted, desperately, to move the conversation toward her body, the part of her that she was most insecure about.
