“That you won’t come back to class until you’re feeling better. And you’ll let me take some notes for you,” he adds, tugging at a strand of my hair. “I can send you emails after class and bring over any take-home work at the end of the day.” I swallow thickly. “And why would you do that for me?” He nuzzles his nose against the bridge of my cheek, his voice low and deep as he says, “If it wasn’t obvious by now—I kinda give a shit about you, Karras.” I tense up in his arms. “Ah, I see.” “And I think you give a shit about me, too.” “Yeah,” I quietly, hesitantly agree. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
