“I’m scared of you,” I admit in a barely audible voice. “Of the things you make me feel.” “Don’t be.” He buries himself against my stomach. “The things you feel can only be a fraction of my love for you.” As he presses his ear against my ribs, I understand what he’s doing. Listening to my heartbeat. “When your heartbeat picks up, mine is already racing.” He looks up at me, pressing a hand against my chest. “When your lungs feel tight from the overwhelming love between us, mine are crushed.”
