“Then what do you want?” I asked. His hand drifted higher, a finger coming up to twirl around a lock of my hair. It was as if our embrace in the forest earlier had unlocked some part of him that couldn’t stop touching me. “I want you to be open with me. I want you to trust me. I want to get to know the real you, not a shadow version.” He released my hair and traveled to my jaw, lightly running his finger up to my cheek. His eyes tracked the movement, like he was reveling in the freedom our solitude provided. Even the barest of touches from him was much more intimate than I was used to. “I want
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