It started as a game, but I watch Oliver’s face change. There’s a flash of panic in his eyes that I only see because it’s me, and I can read him so well. It breaks my heart a little bit.

“Okay, okay,” I say as if he’s made a good point, leaning over him and planting my elbow into the rug just above his shoulder, palm against his forehead as my other hand rubs at his inner thigh, squeezing reassuringly at the muscle there. “One nice thing.”

I nudge our noses together, smiling down at him with open adoration. “Tell me one and I’ll make you come so hard you see stars, pesca. I promise.”