I paused, causing her to stumble into my chest. My thumb and forefinger grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “Try me.”

Ava blinked, her breaths coming out in short, shallow puffs. “My favorite color.”

“Yellow.”

“My favorite ice cream flavor.”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

Her chest rose and fell harder. “My favorite season.”

“Summer, because of the warmth and sunshine and greenery. But secretly, winter fascinates you.” I lowered my head until my own breath skated over her skin and her scent crawled into my nostrils, drugging me. Turning my voice into a hoarse, sinful version of itself. “It speaks to the darkest parts of your soul. The manifestations of your nightmares. It’s everything you fear, and for that, you love it. Because the fear makes you feel alive.”

The band played, and the people around us whirled and danced, but in this world we’d carved for ourselves, it was silent save for our ragged intakes of breath.

Ava shivered beneath my touch. “How do you know all that?”

“It’s my job to know things. I observe. I watch. I remember.” I gave into my desire—a tiny one—and traced her lips with my thumb. A shudder rolled through us, our bodies so in sync we reacted the exact fucking way at the exact fucking time. I brought my thumb down and tightened my grip on her chin. “But those are shallow questions, Sunshine. Ask me something real.”