“I do. I believe you.” I respond softly, leaning my head back against his throat. He runs his fingers down my throat gently. Closing my eyes at how it feels to be in his arms this way. So many times, I thought of how this could be, missed how this felt, missed him and his touch.

“I never got the whole mushy touchy-feely thing Jake is all about. The constant touching and smooching Emma, twenty-four seven. Never really someone who wanted to walk around pawing at my girlfriend or ...