Clyde noticed Micah's blushing. He reached out without a word, his hand moving with the kind of hesitancy that wasn't truly hesitant at all, but restraint. His knuckles brushed Micah's cheek first, as though testing whether the boy would shy away. The warmth of skin met the coolness of his fingertips, and his breath caught.
Micah stiffened at the touch, but didn't retreat. His lashes fluttered as he gazed upward, meeting pale blue eyes that were steady, consuming. Micah saw something that made his stomach twist. Love, yes, but not the shallow kind. It was indulgence, almost tender to the point of ache. It was gentleness wrapped around something darker, deeper, something unspoken that made his heart thunder wildly against his ribs.
