“I really like you, Holt,” I found myself croaking, once again fiddling with the hem of my tiny T-shirt as a wave of self-consciousness rushed over me. The smirk dropped from his face as his eyes softened. He leaned back in and cupped my nape, pressing a gentle, seeking kiss to my mouth. “Good,” he said quietly, nuzzling my cheek. “Because I really, really like you too.”
