Sloane had touched him in the past in the way friends touched each other—gentle shoving, arms brushing, poking, light smacking—but he couldn’t remember the last night time she’d hugged him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her in response, unable to avoid thoughts of how short she was or how nice her hair smelled. He was going mad, obviously.
“No promises,” he said, chuckling into her hair. He didn’t want to let go, maybe because this such a rare moment and maybe because it was easier it hug her than to part ways, but he knew it was already risky enough to be hugging a girl in public, even if they were just friends.
He pulled away and smiled down at her. “Still save me a seat at the banquet??”
“No promises,” he said, chuckling into her hair. He didn’t want to let go, maybe because this such a rare moment and maybe because it was easier it hug her than to part ways, but he knew it was already risky enough to be hugging a girl in public, even if they were just friends.
He pulled away and smiled down at her. “Still save me a seat at the banquet??”
