“Sweet,” he breathed out her pet name and put his other hand to her face to pull her up so he could lower and rest his forehead on hers. “I worried about you every day.”
“I wasn’t screwing around.”
Why would she tell him that unless…? Was there a chance that she still felt something for him? That she might let him back in? Searching her face, he couldn’t figure out if her affection for him was current or nostalgic.
If there was a chance she wanted to try again, he wanted to try too. This wasn’t a time for teasing or games.
“Neither was I,” he said. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
Worry crossed her face. She tried to withdraw, but he tightened his hold and pulled her back. “I don’t know why I said that, Oakley. I’m sorry, I—”
“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked,
