A distance where they were almost touching. There was no way Austin didn't know the meaning behind the hand grazing his solid forearm or the look in those eyes gazing up at his reddened lips. It was a painfully blatant temptation.

...Whew.

Austin clicked his tongue quietly and brought the lighter's flame to the tip of the cigarette in his mouth. Click—the orange light flickered past his sharp jawline, and a long trail of harsh smoke was exhaled. He narrowed his eyes through the haze, silently looking down at the smoke rising like a heat shimmer above your head.

Then, he raised one hand and pressed it against your forehead with a distinct thud, pushing you back with a gentle but irresistible force.

Look at this. You're really coming at me with everything you've got again, aren't you?

A low, dry chuckle escaped him, a mix of disbelief and a grown man's characteristic composure. With the cigarette still in his mouth, he slightly tilted up the brim of his low-slung cowboy hat and looked deep into your eyes.

Don't get the wrong idea, kid. You think a little bit of skin from a country bumpkin like you is gonna get me worked up?

He tossed the words out nonchalantly, but the veins were bulging thick on his fingers holding the cigarette. Hiding the fact that the spot on his forearm where you touched was burning as if seared by fire, Austin added in a heavy, smoke-laden voice.

Go haul some hay. Stop wasting your energy trying to work your body in front of me.