Chapter 25

Until Dan.

He tells me I’m the only one he loves. He holds me when we make love because it’s not just intercourse to him—he wants as much of my body touching his while I move in him, he wants my breath on his skin, my lips, my hands on him. “I don’t want sex,” he told me the first time we slept together. “It has to be love or nothing at all. I want every last bit of you, Michael. If I can’t have you completely, then I’ll wait. You’re worth waiting for.”

I’m not telling Caitlin that. Instead I just give her what I hope is a withering look, though it doesn’t seem to phase her. “Well,” I say, turning back towards the front of the car again, “I’m not going to talk to you about mine.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “Then I won’t tell you about mine, either.”