Jiang Yuxi's POV
Han Li's hand moves closer, her fingers tracing delicate patterns against my skin, and suddenly, breathing feels impossible.
Heat coils low in my stomach, spreading like wildfire through my veins.
I tremble, every nerve in my body strung tight as anticipation thrums between us like an electric current.
She's teasing me.
She knows what she's doing, and she's taking her time.
She watches me like a hunter with its prey, waiting for me to make the first move.
I can't think.
I don't want to think.
I barely register the way my hands clutch the fabric of her button-down shirt, my fingers twisting into the material like it's the only thing keeping me grounded.
Her voice breaks the silence—low, husky, and too damn smug.
> "Do you remember when I said I didn't look at you like that?"
I nod slowly, my mind foggy, my lips parted as I struggle to focus on her words.
> "Yeah."
Her grip tightens around my waist, just slightly, just enough for my body to react.
