Miguel's POV
Miguel continued his intense stare until Grace shifted uncomfortably. "Miguel? Mr. Paddington?"
"Oh—Sorry about that," Miguel blinked, snapping out of his trance. Heat crept up his neck for reasons he couldn't explain. He muttered under his breath, "Now I get why they're so drawn to her."
"Drawn to me?" Grace looked puzzled. Miguel had been studying her face without a word until she'd forced him back to reality.
Miguel adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "Nothing important, Grace. Thanks for being honest with me. You're right to worry about Carlos—he's young and acts on impulse. But give him some credit. He'll prove how serious he is about you."
"How can you be so sure?" Grace challenged. "You're his friend, aren't you? Maybe you're just making excuses for him."
"We're not exactly friends. Like I mentioned before, Tristan was my best friend," Miguel explained. "He and I grew up together from when we were little kids, and Carlos, he—"
