I use the opportunity in the break of action to head upstairs and rinse off in the shower, changing out of my gym clothes and into jeans. When I come out of the bathroom, Emma is unloading a pile of bags onto the floor, nearly hidden behind paper and plastic.

“Hey! You’re back!” I hurry over and take the heavy bags from her hands. “Holy cow, you bought lots of stuff! How was your day?”

“So much fun.” She smiles, shrugging off her purse and tossing it into the chair. “Your mom and sister are incredible.”

“That makes me so happy. Show me what you got!”

“You really care about the shirt I bought in four colors?”

“Of course I do! I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

She pulls out her purchases, laying them out on the bed. There are a couple pairs of jeans, two pairs of shoes, some headbands, and a variety of tops. My eyes snag on a green sweater.

“I like that one.”

“That’s my favorite! I wanted to wear it tonight, so give me a second to change, and then we can head back downstairs.”

Every time I see her, I swear it’s like the first time. When she emerges from the bathroom in the new outfit, I smile, and it’s another sucker punch to my gut.

She looks beautiful.

“Wow,” I say softly. “I really like this.” My hand hovers inches off her body, and I hesitantly ask the next question. “May I?”

She nods, and my palm falls to the top of her arm, running over her bicep and down to her fingertips. My touch skirts back up over her shoulder and to the base of her neck, wishing I could dip under the barrier and feel her bare skin.

“That feels good,” she whispers.

Good.

Good isn’t good enough. I want to make her feel great. Sky high. Transcend out of this room and into the stars, on top of the world.

“I should stop touching you now.”

“Why?”

“Because if I keep going, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. I want more, and I can’t have it.”

I drop my hand and step away. I know what she said in my kitchen. I saw how she wasn’t flailing away this morning when we woke up on top of each other. I notice her mouth parting and her eyes fluttering closed right now as her feet shuffle another step toward me. But I’m doing my damn best to respect the lines she’s drawn, because at the end of the day I respect her, and this isn’t about me selfishly trying to get off.

“Henry?”

“Yeah, honey?”