“Maybe you could help me to the bathroom—” “Hush, killer. I got you.” He holds me. I’m tacky and gross and don’t want to lean on him, but every inch of contact is pure heaven. “Koen?” “Relax.” “I’m really not feeling well.” “I know.” His nose nuzzles behind my ear. My heart could explode with joy. “You’ll be okay. I’ll make you okay.”
