“You don’t think I’m annoying?”

“No, not at all.”

“Really? Even when I say stupid things? And ask to see your willy?”

“Even then.”

I don’t even know what to say, so instead of saying anything, I step into him. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

My chest almost aches, and I have this weird feeling in my stomach. It’s not a bad feeling, but it’s a strange one. One I don’t seem to know how to understand. I slide my arms around him and press myself to him so I can tuck my face against his neck.

“I don’t know why this makes me feel so weird,” I mumble.

“A good weird or a bad weird?” he asks as he slides his hand under my shirt and gently runs his fingers over my back.

“A good weird. Stop! I can’t take any more of this! My body doesn’t know how to respond. I think it’s shutting down. I think I’m dying, Jackson. Is that what this feeling is?”

He shakes his head as he chuckles. “You’re not dying.”