She couldn’t do it, she realised hazily. He was afraid of touch, and it was rushing, and they’d already come this far — she couldn’t let what she wanted ruin it. So instead she laid her head on his shoulder, making a contented hum, and said, “I’m really glad we met.”
Completely oblivious to her inner turmoil, Isaac simply smiled and slowly lay his head on top of hers, fighting down the slight panic that arose in his chest at the contact. She was his friend and she was safe, and he was quickly accepting that. “Me too – you’re really awesome, Summer.”
“Biased,” she sing-songed lightly. “Are you sure you aren’t talking about yourself?” She cuddled closer, closing her eyes and breathing him in.