Francesca buried her face against Jonas’ neck and breathed in his scent. It made her heart race, and he wished he could figure out what would help her.
“I think I need your help. With my back… I think it’s worse than I’ve been willing to admit.”
Jonas had to resist the urge to tell her that he had already told her it was bad and that he thought she needed more help than he could give her.
He pushed her gently away, and reached for his shirt as she went back to sit on her bed.
“You don’t have to put your shirt back on. I’m not repulsed by you.”
Jonas sat on the bed beside Francesca, and looked down at the shirt in his hands as he decided what to do.
“I guess that’s a compliment?”
He put it on the bed beside him, and a faint smile crossed her lips before she took off her own
