“You’re my boyfriend, right?” I ask, pulling out of our kiss and blushing beet red. “I can call you that in my head?” “I’m yours,” he answers immediately, giving me a flood of serotonin straight to my brain. His lips press against my jaw. “You can call me anything you want.” “What do you call me inside of your head?” I ask, biting my lip. “Mine,” he says simply.
