“Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” His lips press against each other, as if taking a second to see if he likes the taste the new nickname leaves on his tongue. My own form a gap when I let out yet another short breath, my lungs desperately searching for any kind of oxygen in the room. “Do I?” he repeats. “I…” I gulp. “I’m not sure.” The edge of his lips twitch, but he keeps his smile in check. “Good enough for me.”
