Nate’s hand finds my limp one that has dropped alongside my chair, and his fingers lace through mine. He waits for my gaze to shift. Waits for my fingers to close around his. Then, he squeezes. Gently. My eyes fly to him and his chin drops a fraction of an inch. A message. I’m here... He’s here. Nate leans over, slowly placing his lips just behind and slightly below my ear, in his spot. My head leans into him as he places a slow, closed-mouth kiss to my skin, lingering there for a moment, and my body decompresses instantly. He’s... got me. And I think he does.
