The first month was a honeymoon. That's what Viva would call it later, when she was trying to make sense of what came after. A honeymoon without a wedding. Just the floaty, weightless feeling of someone new and good and surprising.

They saw each other three times the first week. Four times the second. By the third week, they had a rhythm: Tuesday at Grounded, Thursday dinner at his place or hers, Saturday something lazy.

And George touched her.

Not in a grabby way. Not in a pushy way. He just... touched. His hand on the small of her back when they walked through a doorway. His fingers laced through hers across a table. His thigh pressed against hers on the couch. His arm draped over her shoulder in the movie theater. His lips on her forehead when she yawned.

She loved it.

Her last boyfriend had been stingy with affection—like touch was a currency he was saving for a rainy day. He'd hold her hand only after she reached first. He'd hug her only if she asked. He'd kiss her like he was checking a box.

George was the opposite. He gave touch freely, constantly, like it cost him nothing because he had an infinite supply.

"You're very physical," she said one night, not a criticism, just an observation.

"Is that bad?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say it."

She turned to look at him. They were on her couch, his arm around her, her feet in his lap. His thumb was tracing circles on her knee. He didn't seem to know he was doing it.

"I like it," she said. "I've just never been with anyone like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like you can't help yourself."

He stopped tracing. His hand went still on her knee.

"Is that how it seems? Like I can't help myself?"

She heard something in his voice. A nerve she hadn't meant to touch.

"I meant it as a compliment," she said.

He was quiet for a moment. Then his thumb started moving again.

"My last girlfriend said it felt like I was crawling inside her skin. Not in a romantic way. In a 'get off me' way."

"That's—"

"It's fine. She wasn't wrong. I just... I don't know how to be close to someone without being close."

Viva didn't know what to say to that. So she leaned into his side and let his hand keep moving on her knee.

She told herself: He's just affectionate. He's just expressive. This is what it looks like when someone actually wants you.

And for the first month, she believed it.

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