And before I thought twice about it, before I could remind myself that I wasn’t his responsibility, that he was only here because someone had dumped him into my life, I reached out and grabbed the first thing I could: his pinkie. His eyes met mine. Just for a split second, every one of his muscles tensed. His fingers were cool and stiff as I clutched the one. But as I started to let go, with his other hand, he folded my fingers back around his, pinning me quietly with his bossy gaze.
