Chapter Eighteen
Paisley
Russell stared down at me, his eyes darkening. With the light fading as dusk took hold, I felt caught in the beam of his gaze. I could hear the vroom of my pulse picking up speed. My breath was shallow as heat bloomed through me in a wash, sending goose bumps prickling over the surface of my skin.
An owl called in the distance again, a magpie chattering in return. The two birds’ activity intersected at this between time of twilight. The sky swirled with the sounds of nature around us—the slow rhythm of the tide going out, a quiet splash in the water, the subtle sound of a chilly gust of air, and another call from an owl. I felt pulled, all of me leaning toward Russell. I didn't know if I was physically leaning, but it felt as if I were on a cellular level. There
