I don’t think I can look in his face and say the thing I want to say, this thing I need to say. I mumble it into his neck.
“Last night. . . I was thinking. . . .”
“What were you thinking?” He brushes the hair out of my face and kisses me somewhere around the eyebrow.
“I was thinking I don’t really want to kiss anybody else.”
“I don’t think I do either.”