I’m addicted. And I will gladly cross every single line if it means making this girl mine. If it means forcing her to be mine. My mind has already been made up, the decision fortifying like granite in my brain. At that moment, her wandering eyes slide right onto mine, clashing with a force that nearly sends my knees to the ground. Her eyes round in the corners ever-so-slightly, as if she’s just as enraptured by me as I am by her. And then the reader before her is pulling her attention away, and I know I need to leave now before I do something stupid like kidnap her in front of at least fifty witnesses. No matter. She won’t be able to escape me now. I’ve just found myself a little mouse, and I won’t stop until I’ve trapped her.