“Yesterday you asked about the forehead kisses. What they meant. And I lied to you.” His eyes tick up, meeting mine. “Ask me again.” I’m not breathing. “What do they mean?” He gives me a little smile. “They mean I constantly crave the way you feel. They mean I can barely muster a thought about anything but you. They mean I wake up in cold sweats most nights, thinking about how much it would scare me to have you, and how bad it would hurt to lose you.” My heart hammers and he looks at me earnestly. “Jenna, I’m so tired of pretending I don’t have real feelings for you. Fighting the way I feel
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