He comes to stand beside me, and I try not to shrink.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his breath warming my neck, indicating his closeness. He has no idea that internally my body is acting like a pubescent teen after her first sexual experience. I tense and move away to get more coffee from the cupboard, glad of the reason to move away.

“No. It was …you were asleep.” I have no idea what to say.

Do I admit that I was the one who started it? That I liked it.

My ...