our arms accidentally brush. I don’t feel the need to instantly put distance between us, but Kiara quickly steps to the side. “Sorry,” she apologizes, even though it’s not her fault. “It’s okay,” I murmur. Looking at her, it’s to see she has her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, her shoulders hunched as if she’s trying to make herself smaller. The protectiveness surges in my chest, and for the first time in my life, I feel the need to hug another person.
