He hums and scoots even closer to me, his chest brushing against my back, his body curling around mine without really touching, his hand sliding down to my waist, then coming to rest on my belly. He’s so warm; he’s leaving little trails of fire in his wake, even through layers of clothing and bed linen, and I gasp.
“What are you doing, Lee?”
“I’m trying to tell you that Debora was right.”
“About what?”
“I really amin love with you.”
Everything stops. My heart. The world. Even the laws of physics cease to exist, and the universe comes to a screeching halt.
I really am in love with you.
“Don’t joke about this, Lee. Please,” I plead, the desperation in my heart audible in my words.
“I’m not.” He leans his forehead against the back of my neck, his nose pressing into my flesh, and he brushes his thumb over my abs. With a huff, he moves and wiggles and pulls on the cover until he can crawl underneath it, then his hand takes back its place on my belly. “I’m deadly serious, Thomas.”