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“Okay . . . I need to go.” “Are you sure?” I ask, squeezing him. “Yes,” he says, his voice growing stern. He tilts my head up so I’m forced to look him in the eyes. “You know I want you. I know you want me. But I want more between us. I want to try . . . hell”—he takes a deep breath—“I want to be intimate with you.” Understanding what he’s trying to say, I nod and remove my hand. “Sorry, I—” “Don’t apologize.” He sears me with his gaze. “Do you understand? Don’t ever apologize for how much you want me. But let’s try to take this slow, to give it a chance.”
