“Here,” I said softly, handing it to Shea. For Darlin’, I’d written. Moogs’ First Outlaw Puck. Shea ran his thumb over the letters, his smile small and sweet and hitting me like a bomb blast. I wanted to hold him, wrap my arms around him, pull him even closer into me. Bury my face in his neck and kiss him again in all those gentle places, tell him yes, I want you, so fucking bad it hurts sometimes. “This is the first of many,” Shea said. His voice was as low as mine, hidden beneath the video game and Brody and Lawson’s shit talk. I smiled. “Maybe. But it’s the first one in a long time that’s
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