Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lift her tiny body and carry her to the bed. I pull my shirt off and clean myself up.

“You’re amazing,” she hums, catching her breath.

“Yeah, worth every penny?” I quip as I climb into bed next to her. She winces at the comment.

Jesus, I’m an asshole.

“I didn’t mean…” Her embarrassed voice trails off.

“Make sure to leave a positive review on scoreyourscore.com.” I can’t shut up. “Best boy toy on campus.”

She cringes.

“You’re more than that.”

Our heads share a pillow as I stare into her eyes. Lying next to her, but not touching her, is a strange new kind of intimacy.

“Oh, yeah? And, what’s so amazing about me?” I ask softly, legitimately curious.

“You’re everything I’m not and wish I were.” She places her hand over my heart and it beats faster in response. “You’re fearless and strong. You’re confident and clever.”

I shake my head in disbelief. I search for the sarcasm in her voice but can’t find anything but pure sincerity. I place my hand over hers and try to swallow past the knot of self-doubt in my throat.

She nods with a smile and continues, “Life gave you nothing. You’re here through sheer willpower. Do you know how intimidating that is? You’re kind of my hero.” Her cheeks flush and she bites her lower lip. She drops her chin to her chest, but I’ve already seen the tears forming in her chocolate eyes.

I’m nothing special. A nobody. I’ve spent most of my life just trying to get by, surviving with the mangled pieces of myself I could cobble together. Now this weird little goddess crashes into my life and calls me her hero. Suddenly, I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the abyss. The fear of falling is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. I know in my head I need to step back, but I can’t force myself to pull away.

Reaching out, I wrap my arms around Elizabeth. A bizarre warmth radiates from where her palm presses into my chest. Not the fleeting burn of passion or lust, but a searing ache deep inside. Something is changing between us. She’s reaching into me, exchanging one of my broken pieces for a pristine one of hers, and stitching us together in some permanent way. I didn’t let her in, but she made it here anyway.