“Reid.” I draw out his name in careful amusement. “Why do I get the impression you don’t want me to leave?” He swallows thickly and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Because I don’t.” My stomach flips at the surprising, yet simple, honest answer. “Why?” His chest rattles with a sigh. “I have a feeling that once you go, I’ll never see you again and I’m not looking forward to that.” What? I struggle to wrap my head around his confession. “And,” he goes on, “I have a feeling if I ask for your number, you’ll say no.”
