"Jesus, Ro." What was I supposed to say in the face of that?

Have the talk, the grown-up voice in my head insisted. Ask him why he regretted the kiss. I didn't recognize that voice at first because, well. And no way. I tugged at my neckline assuring myself the room still contained oxygen.

He brushed a curl behind my ear. "The night you did E with Samson," he said, "you called me 'Ro' for the first time. You haven't done it again until now."

I'd needed the ...