“Did you have fun at your first hockey game?” He lays one hand on my cheek, resting his forehead against mine, a tender smile that won’t quit as he whispers, “I’m so lucky you’re my Emmett.” My eyes fall shut at the feeling that sweeps through me, a slow-moving river quietly demanding more, carving a new path through unfamiliar terrain, a gentle voice that promises in no uncertain terms that I’ll never be the same again, not after knowing a love like this. “And I’m so lucky you’re my Abel.”
