“Why?” It’s all I can manage. Rafe turns me to look at him and kisses a tear before it drips off my chin. “You know the answer,” he whispers against my jaw. Because he loves me. And there’s no doubt in my mind that I love him too. “Look at me.” Through blurry eyes, I meet his soft, green gaze. “I’m your hotline now, Queenie. All your mundane thoughts, all your ramblings: they’re mine. I want them all, no matter how trivial. Do you understand me?” I can only nod. “Good,” he murmurs. He swallows hard, frowning at a tear rolling down my face. “Now stop crying. I don’t like it.”
