“The reason I couldn’t touch you was never because I didn’t want to. I didn’t touch you, Wendy, because I wanted to so badly that I was sure you’d notice. I didn’t touch you because I was afraid that if I did, you would know just how much of an effect you have on me. That you’d see the way my cheeks turned red and my breathing quickened and I’d stop being able to form coherent fucking sentences.” He stops, growling in frustration. “God, Wendy, I’ve wanted to touch you every second of every goddamn day since I met you. I’ve wanted to hold your hand and hold you and kiss you. God, I’ve wanted to
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