“God dammit, Everly. I’m not afraid of you getting attached.” He hovers over me. Even in my heels, he’s a good head taller than me. His stare surveys my face, settling on my lips and then dragging up to my eyes. “I’m afraid I will.” I’m still deciphering his meaning when he steps to me, lifts his left hand to the side of my neck, and kisses me.
