“Nor did I,” I whispered. “Nor did I.”
We kissed again, wrapping each other in our arms. Once again, my world shrunk to just the parts where I touched Jeremy. I wanted—needed—to feel him close, to share his heat, to drink him in. I needed it so badly in that instant, that it hurt.
“Theodore?” We’d broken away, and he was looking at me with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” I croaked, realizing belatedly that I was crying. I laughed. “Nothing.” I cupped his cheek, shaking my head. “This is the opposite of wrong, Jer. This is exactly what I want.” I sniffed. “I just can’t believe this is actually happening.”
Tears sprang up in his eyes, and a grin bloomed on his face. We kissed again, tenderly, even as our shoulders shook with happiness.
“I’m hungry,” he declared after we’d both paused for breath.
I gestured over my shoulder toward our favorite breakfast joint on the other side of the park. He nodded vigorously and we rose, groaning at our stiff, cold joints.