““This—” He shook his head. “You and me, you know it’s not a good idea.” “If you think so, maybe you should stay away.” “You don’t want me to,” he said, moving his hand to mine. Every time he touched me, my stomach got all jittery. “What do you want?” I asked. “You,” he said, his expression unreadable and his voice heavy and full of . . . full of what? Sadness? Regret? “To understand you. To know that you’re safe. To not have to avoid the only person I can be myself around.””
