“I have a confession to make,” Jacob told me the following day.
I laughed, not looking up from my breakfast. “This ought to be good.”
Jacob and I had lived together for so long now that I doubted there was anything I didn’t know about him. But he didn’t answer. I looked up at him, finding him leaning against the counter. He had finished eating faster than I had and had gotten up to clear his plate. His face showed his emotions, something I was still getting used to. When I first met him, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. Now, I could tell exactly what he was feeling. It was written all over his face.
He looked up at me with a look that I had seen only once before. It was the look he had given me when you first confessed his love. His brown eyes were wide in compl
