“What will make you happy, Hunter?” You. You make me happy. I opened my mouth to say it, but the words got stuck at first, feeling so significant that my heart started racing. I pushed through the lump in my throat that was blocking them. “You do, scratch,” I said, voice raspy with something hot that was filling up my chest. “Enough to stay out here?” he asked, tentative and soft, like he was being careful not to come across as forceful or imposing. “Yes,” I answered without thinking, gripping his sides harder, and something squeezed tight inside me at the admission.
