“Yes?” Slowly he sets my hand back before reaching for the other and massaging that one. “Please don’t put words in my mouth. I—” Swallowing slowly, he slides his thumb down my palm, making me arch reflexively in pleasure. “Sometimes I just need time to say what I want. It’s harder when people jump in.” “Sorry,” I whisper. “I get nervous when I talk about it.” He nods. “I understand. But you don’t need to, with me.” Tears prick my eyes. It’s just a little kindness, but it’s toward such a tender part of my life, it feels like the hardest hug and the biggest smile and the sweetest kiss. It feels
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