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“Don’t make it a thing.” Mack grumbles
“I’m making it a thing.”
“Will.”
“You’re sweet.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” Macklin looked away, trying not to smile.
Will leaned closer. “You’re blushing.”“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Go to sleep.” Will smiled. “Okay.” He closed his eyes. Five minutes later, his head was resting on Mack’s shoulder. He looked down at him. He was going to tease him. He really was. But then Will’s fingers found his hand between their seats. Their fingers intertwined. Mack looked toward the front of the bus. Nobody seemed to be paying attention. He squeezed Will’s hand. Will squeezed back without opening his eyes. Mack smiled.
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