“You love me.” Miller’s face goes beet red, and I can’t stop a cheesin’ grin. I pinch his check, and he grins down at his lap. I cup his neck with my hand. Warm neck. Shy Miller. He does love me. I want so much to say I love him back, but no one’s ever really said “I love you” to me. It feels too awkward. Miller looks up at me. “I do,” he rasps. “Love you.” His face flushed, his blue eyes shining, his hair pressed down on his forehead by an Auburn ball cap. I snapshot it in my brain. “I love you too,” I murmur. I grab his hand. “I really do. It’s hard to say, though.”
