Something had shifted in that moment, when she’d closed her eyes to savor the taste and he’d been watching. The thought sent heat crawling up her neck. She’d been too open, too unguarded. And he’d just… let it sit there between them, unacknowledged, which somehow felt worse than if he’d said something. Now she was the only one carrying it, this awareness that she’d given herself away.?.

As they walked out of the classroom together, Juniper focused on the lingering sweetness on her tongue, the way the cinnamon still clung to the roof of her mouth. Daniel moved beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, and she hated how much she noticed. How much she wanted to keep noticing.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Didn’t know what he was or where this was going. But she knew she’d think about this… the taste of cinnamon, the warmth of his presence, the way he’d looked at her. And despite every reasonable objection her mind could muster, she knew she’d want to do it again.

One cinnamon crawler at a time.