He shook his head, whispering, “I feel better… when you’re here, but you shouldn’t lie for me, Bella. Not me.”
“I wanted to,” I assured him, reaching for his hand. “For you, I wanted to.”
His hand gripped mine, and the warmth coursed through my fingertips, working its way up my arm and through the rest of my body, causing me to briefly close my eyes. He exhaled a shivering breath as he gazed down to where our fingers connected. “Meu anjo,” he murmured softly.
“What does that mean?” I asked, grinning. I recognized the words, he’d said them once before. And just like last time, the way he spoke them, how they rolled off his tongue as if he were always meant to say them, left me curious and content simultaneously.
The left side of his mouth pulled up into a small smile, but he never answered my question.
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