I raise my head, but I only meet Loren Hale’s gaze. He stares straight through me, like he is reaching right into my soul and piecing apart all of my intricate fears. What frightens me most: not knowing what my best friend feels. I’m about to approach him in the middle of the kitchen and collide with his hard, rigid body. But I don’t have to lift a foot. He walks to me. And he pulls my small frame to him, embracing me with two strong arms, a warm cocoon where my heart begins to slow. I rest my cheek on his chest, his body pressed along mine, and I shut my eyes. His hand lowers to the small of
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