“You don’t mean that.” “But I do. I’m no good to anyone anymore. I’m no good to you. I should just—” He cuts me off. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” I cock my head to the side, wondering what he needs forgiveness for, but am tackled onto the bed before I can even ask. It’s not violent, not in the slightest. It’s like he’s cocooning me with his body, wrapping me in his embrace, and trying to protect me from the world itself. I brace myself for the pain, but nothing comes. It’s just Whaley. Whaley and his peppermint tobacco smell. Whaley and his muscular frame. Whaley pressing kisses to my
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