“It’s okay,” I say. “Take your time.”
The need to stroke her back or place a kiss in her hair is eating me alive. I forgot myself once and kissed her on the back of the head. Hopefully, she was already asleep and didn’t notice it. She would probably feel revolted if she finds out I’m attracted to her. It’s wrong on so many levels. When she mentioned the other day that she’s only eighteen, it only made the situation worse. She is fifteen years younger than me. I need to keep my distance as much as possible.
“I can’t.” Asya’s nails scrape the top of the counter as she tightens her grip, her gaze fixed on the cereal box.
“Of course you can,” I say as I battle the need to touch her.
It guts me each time I see her struggling to make even the most basic choice. She still doesn’t want to
