“You’re not really a hugger.” He stares at me, eyes wide and pleading like I’m missing the obvious punch line of a joke. “I’m a hugger, Lennox. You just never offer. In fact, you usually treat me like I’m contagious. I always assumed it was out of respect for whoever you’re dating.” Incorrect. It’s actually because I see his face almost every time I come, so I’m trying hard not to blur even more lines by touching him too much.
