“A lot of them, actually,” I breathe. “So many it might be fracturing my brain. It’s definitely driving me to drink.” Tom’s lips quirk up at that, and I release a tiny portion of the air I’m holding in my lungs. “I’m not great at this, if you couldn’t tell. So you’ll have to be patient with me.” “You’re in luck. I’m a very patient man.” My blood thrums in my veins. “Good.” Tom’s lip curls up in a half smile. “Grand.”
