Yet here, with her in my arms, is where I finally take a deep breath, my hand shaking against her cheek in fear. What if I am too like my father?
What if I hurt her?
“You are the only one who ever gets to see my hands shake, love,” I murmur, and she smirks.
“Good, don’t let them see it.” She nods, playing the game as well as we. “And no, I don’t think you will hurt me.”
I blink in astonishment, and she laughs. “You’re not the only one who can read people, asshole.”