Mia
Brad won’t tell me where we’re going. All he said was to wrap up warm. It made me so thankful I had packed my thermal leggings and woolly socks.
Excitement takes over when we get into the car. Every bit of me wants to ask again where he’s taking us, but I don’t. I manage to keep it in.
Snowflakes fall above us, landing in our hair as snow crunches under our feet. Brad walks beside me, his arm close to mine but not touching.
After spending the night in the same bed together, I’m pretty sure the boundary of touching is gone—or did that happen when he kissed me?
The urge to reach out and link my arm with his is strong, but I ignore it.
I can’t blur lines with Brad, even though they’re already starting to blur. If I distance myself a little, then it won’t get worse.
I can’t and won’
