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“Thank you, really,” he murmurs into my ear, his breath tingling the delicate skin that’s covering the side of my neck. I place my arms around him, patting his shoulder in an awkward way. I’m terrified because I know that this means something completely different to him than it does to me. I’m taken. Why do I have to remind myself of that each time I’m in his presence? “You’re welcome,” I mumble once again, waiting for him to let go of me, but he keeps his hold on me, clearly refusing to let go. I break off the moment by pushing him away gently and he gets the message immediately, letting me go. "Okay, we have a little less than an hour until the food arrives. What do you want to do?" I ask, hoping that he won't come up with something suggestive. But he's clearly so thrilled that I'm wil