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I reach out and drag him off the couch, across the coffee table, and onto my lap, kissing him quiet.

He leans away from me. “Anthony, you don't have to—”

I kiss him harder.

“Anthony—”

“Mads. A Ukrainian operative said you have a Russian problem. Do you know what my first thought was when she said that?”

He shakes his head, his body still stiff.

“That I would kill anybody who put a hand on you. I would kill anybody who thought about putting a hand on you. And I would take on that entire fucking government for you. If they touch you, I will go to war. And I will win. Because I’m crazy about you too.”

He inhales sharply, and I wonder if I haven’t scared him with the truth.

Scratching his neck, he asks, “You are? Crazy about me?”

I think on it and shake my head, holding up my hand when his eyes go sad.

“It’s more than that, Mads. You’re not the only one out here wondering if you’ve got the corner on big emotions. Definitely not the only one who’s terrified someone doesn’t feel the same way. Because I’m way past crazy for you.”

His eyes sparkle, a wild laugh bubbling up as he places his hand on my chest. “Wait, you’re in Hopper with me?”

God, I love it when he plays with me.

I kiss him over and over again, threading my fingers through his belt loops to pull him closer to me. “Yes, Mads,” I answer, staring at his face. I get lost in it, the words dancing on the tip of my tongue. “I, uh…um.”

Fuck, just say it.

“I’m uh, a little beyond Hopper if I’m telling the truth. I guess you could say that I…I sort of love you.”