Cath had been trying to maintain eye contact through all this, like a grown-up human being, but it was getting to be too much—she let her eyes skitter down to the snow. “If you smile at everyone,” she said, “how am I supposed to feel when you smile at me?”
He pulled their hands toward him, up, so they were practically over his shoulders. “How do you feel when I smile at you?” he asked—and then he did smile at her, just a little.
Not like myself, Cath thought.
She gripped his hands tightly, for balance, then stood on tiptoe, leaning her chin over his shoulder and brushing her head gently against his cheek. It was smooth, and Levi smelled heavy there, like perfume and mint.
“Like an idiot,” she said softly. “And like I never want it to stop.”