reach down and start to zip up my pants. “Don’t.” That one word halts me, and I comply. Slowing, Axel turns his car into my short driveway. I wait for him to put it in park before I undo my seatbelt and open my door. “Wait for me.” Why I keep listening to these commands, I don’t know. But I want to listen. Something about doing what he says feels good. It’s nice to just listen. To not think.
