He’d paid attention.

I ate in silence, hyperaware of his eyes on me, the way his gaze tracked every movement, every bite, every time my lips wrapped around the fork. The air between us was thick, charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.

"You’re thinking too loud."

I glanced up. He was watching me, his laptop forgotten, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

"What?"

"You’re overthinking." He tilted his head, studying me. "I can see it. Your brow’s all scrunched up. ...