We were in bed later that night, back in the dorm. He was on his side, I was on mine, eye to eye, breath intermingling in the small gap that separated us.
“Thanks,” I said. “You did great.”
He smiled. It faded all too quickly. “We know just a bit more than we once did, but we’re still at a dead end. Plus…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. The sadness in his eyes said it all.
“Plus,” I said, picking up where he’d left off, “your father was screwed over, and you’re, well, you’re…”
“Here.” The smile flicked on a bit. “I’m glad for that part, at least.”
“Really?” I whispered, c**k stirring, heart beating a bit faster.
“Really,” he also whispered, adding, “um, boyfriend.”
My head tingled as butterflies took wing inside my belly. We hadn’t discussed this yet. I had a lot
