“What did you think of me the day we first met?” I ask, my breath catching as he nips at my collarbone. He doesn’t hesitate to answer as he soothes the same spot with a featherlight kiss. “I thought you were beautiful. I loved your eyebrows. Funny but uptight. You called me Prison Break—which was weirdly charming. Then you spoke ASL and won me over entirely—though I chose, stupidly, to ignore that.”
