At first, I only want Braxton to hold me in his strong arms and assure me that I am okay, that nothing has changed in the few days that we’ve been apart, that he still loves me and wants me. But the longer I linger in his embrace, the more I realize I want more from him.

I want him.

I nuzzle my face against his neck, and his grip around my shoulders increases. We are sitting on a couch in the living room of his apartment. His place, even this small one that isn’t actually his home, is large and well appointed. It makes the shitty little apartment I...