“What do you mean?”
“That you’re far too sweet for something that dark and bitter.”
My comment made him fidget in his chair. His gaze flitted away from me and he cleared his throat.
Sierra-Hotel-India-Tango. Too much. Reign it in, Levi.
Luckily, the waitress came to my rescue. I accepted another refill and quirked my eyebrow at Beckett.
“I’d like, um, another hot chocolate, please.”
I gave him a wide, happy smile and we drank our beverages in silence and people-watched for a few minutes. Every now and then, he snuck a glance at me and lingered for a second or two before he looked away again. I pretended not to notice, but I was very aware. Every peek left a tingle in its wake, and I wanted him to look at me more.