“I don’t like anyone touching my hair,” he says. I suck in a breath. Considering all the pinching, prodding, and squeezing I’ve done while patching him up, I didn’t expect that he would care if I touched his hair. “I won’t do it again.” His eyes lower to my lips, and linger there for a heartbeat. Then, he quickly looks away. “I don’t mind when you do it, cub.”
