Olivia
For a moment longer than it probably should have, Nathan’s thumb lingered on my cheek where he had brushed the flour away.
As though coming to our senses at the exact same time, however, he quickly pulled away and I cleared my throat.
“Want some pie?” I asked, turning away and walking to the fridge in order to hide my red face. I opened the freezer and dug around until I found a container of vanilla ice cream, which I had bought a few days prior.
“Sure,” Nathan replied. By the time I turned back around to face him, he was on the other side of the kitchen and was avoiding my gaze like the plague.
But even then, I could see how his mouth watered every time he glanced at the pie, and my apprehension turned to amusement.
A few minutes later, we had between us two plates of bright
