“No, Liz.” Breaking our kiss, he pulled back to look at me, breathing uneven. “We can’t do things like that yet.” “Why not?” “Because we’re not ready.” Tears filled my eyes, and I choked out a pained sob. “I wish I could get you to understand.” “Then tell me,” he urged. “I’m here, Liz. I’m always listening.” I knew he was, and that broke my heart a little bit more because I didn’t want him to see and run. To turn away from me. To think I was dirty and tainted. Because I was supposed to be his. I belonged to him, but a part of me had been stolen. And I needed him to put it back for me.
