I slightly shake my head, but there’s not much authority behind it. He wets his lips. “Do you regret it?” “No,” I say quickly. “But you can’t kiss me because I want you to, and that seems dangerous.” His hand runs down my rib cage, his fingertips drawing circles along my hip bone. “Wanting this again seems dangerous?” I nod. “Most of what got me through the past six years was the belief that you were terrible, and I was better off without you. It’s been quite terrifying to realize…well, to remember, that you aren’t terrible at all.”
