Sofia
When we pulled up to the pack house, Devon was outside waiting and the moment I stepped out he pulled me into his arms. Heat ran through me and I revelled in the feel of him as we kissed like we had been apart for months.
Then I pulled back and looked at him. He looked tense, but he didn't nearly look as bad as when I had returned the first time.
"I love you," he whispered so low it was almost like a breath. I stiffened, and he did the same, apparently realizing what he had said.
I tried to think of how to respond. I felt something, but was it love? I didn't even know what love was.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that Sofia."
"You don't have to be sorry for how you feel."
"I've been trying not to push you."
"You haven't been pushing me. Remember? You let me go, and I came back
