My finger was still touching his chest, and I flattened my palm there. The close proximity, his hand on my waist, how he was gazing down at me-my ability to breathe was suffering. I tapped his chest, enjoying his firm muscles there. “Or we can study a while and head out for a bite as a study break.” I relaxed, and then he had one last suggestion. He was studying me as he made the suggestion, and seeing the small panic I felt at the thought of seeing his roommates, seeing Linde, he added, “Or we can order in.” That’d be better. “I could make you something in the kitchen.” When had this happened? Where I needed him outside the bedroom, too? It was an unnerving thought, and I shook it off like I did when things got to be too much. Right there, that small touch gave me some extra strength. His hand touched my hip, and I almost closed my eyes.
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