“Hey,” he murmurs. The softness in his voice cuts through my obsessive thoughts like a knife. He lifts his hand and taps his finger against my temple while balancing Nala in his other arm. “I can see you overthinking things. Don’t. I’m a patient guy.” A patient guy? What does he even mean? Does he expect an invitation next time? Should I give him one? What’s he waiting for? Our arrangement to change? To shift into something else? It can’t. I won’t let it. I can’t let it. “Mia,” he soothes, grasping my chin and tilting my head until our eyes lock. “I’m not worth your patience,” I whisper. “I
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Mia just accept that you like him already!
