[He rocks with the push and then brushes his hand through his hair as he swings back upright to look down at her face. The hair's a lost cause. He's not doing it any good touching it, but it's compulsive.

And he doesn't see through her acting, but he also doesn't know how else to take the pointed comment about leading people on. She's asking because—why else would she say it that way, right? Maybe? If not, then—?

His chest feels tight, in that excited, pleasant, familiar way that only a really cute girl can bring on just right.]

Uh . . . maybe you don't mean it this way, but just so you know, you don't have anything to worry about. Y'know, about standing a chance or not.