“Okay.” She shifted, standing from the couch. “When . . . never mind.” “Say it.” “When will I see you again?” I ran my fingers over her cheek. “Was that so hard to ask?” “I don’t want you to think I’m clingy.” “But you are clingy.” She frowned and a cute little crease formed between her eyebrows. “No, I’m not.” “It’s not an insult, baby. I know you. Like you know me. I like that you want to plan when we’ll see each other again. I like that you’re trying to be chill about this, but Stella, I’m not chill about this. So you don’t need to be either.”
