["Jump," he said. I craned my neck to get one glimpse of his face; he held onto me and rested his head on my shoulder.
"What sort of question is that?" I asked, scoffing. His fingers traced soothing circles on my abdomen as he inched closer—if that was even possible.
"Would you? If I asked?" There was no curiosity in that voice. He seemed worried about something.
"What are you asking me, Michael?" I tried one last time to look at him, but he tilted his face so that I felt his hot breath on my neck.
This feels so weird, I thought to myself. What are we doing?
"I don't know what I'm asking you!" he groaned. He started pulling away from me. I don't know what came over me, but I grasped his hands in mine and secured them to me.
I'll never let you go.
