I like how he kisses me. Like I’m the only thing he needs in the world. I fucking love the way he whipped into the old ball fields and sucked my dick so hard and forceful. More than that, I loved how he wrapped his arm around me that night on the couch. The tight hug. I love that. I think about one of those first nights on the roof—the way I saw his fingers twitching. God, those fucking hands of his. I just like him, okay? Jesus, Miller.
