True to his word, Kieran doesn’t try anything that night. Unlike the last time, though, he holds me.
Something has shifted in our relationship—if you can even call it that. Maybe it was his meeting my mom; maybe it was my getting to know his sister; maybe it was both. I don’t know. All I know is, curling up against his chest feels right.
I can only imagine how good it would feel post-coitus.
When I wake up the next morning, he’s still holding me. I lift my head from his chest and am surprised to find that he’s already awake, staring back down at me.
“I’m going to make you breakfast,” he informs me. “I just didn’t want to wake you up.”
I stare up at him, utterly transfixed. The thought How are you so perfect? comes to mind—then quickly disappears when I remember what a control freak
