You're cute in the morning," he told me.
"I am?" I asked.
"Cute and sweet."
"Mm," I mumbled, glad he thought that but I'd always been a morning person. I was a night person too. I was an anytime person when I wasn't stressy and in a bad mood.
One of his hands left my back and I watched his eyes get heated and intense as they studied my face.
Then he did something beautiful, something amazing, something that, if I'd had any doubts as to my certainty, they would have disintegrated.
He tenderly slid the backs of his knuckles against the skin of my cheek while he muttered, "A year and a half. Totally fuckin' missed out.
