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I laugh. “Jeez, you must not be a boob man, then.”
“I think you’re right, because I stare at your ass a lot.” He starts to laugh before he even finishes the sentence, and I join in.
Through my laughter, I say, “I do have a rather round ass.”
“Juicy. Like an apple.” When he grabs ahold of it, I arch into him, looking up into his face. “I want to feel stupid about that now, but I think I was so distracted by the pure perfection in front of me.”
My lips quirk. “It was a good time.”
“Yeah,” he says, holding me close.
I lean my chin to his, not to kiss him—I don’t know if he’s wanting that, but I want to give him the option. “Since the gene is inside me, my children will need to be checked one day.”
“That’s terrifying.”
I nod. “Yeah. I almost went into cancer research to study how to stop it, but with the memories and the trauma I went through, I didn’t think I could be truly happy in the field. Instead, I want to help kids and their parents with autism diagnoses.”
He licks his lips, holding my gaze. “Which is just freaking awesome,” he says, bringing his hand up to cup my jaw. “Did you want to do that because of Nico’s diagnosis?”
I nod, lost in his eyes. “Yeah, I feel like his family didn’t give him the support—” I stop when I realize what he just said.
I press my lips together as we stare into each other’s eyes. I don’t feel like I lied to him about Nico, but I don’t know if he feels the same. I also don’t want to add to his apprehension right now either. Problem is, with the way he is looking at me, he wants an answer.
I just hope my response doesn’t hit him the wrong way. And I’m the reason for his next panic attack.
