I'm not sure I can do this presentation tomorrow. I'm so nervous, Jake.

*Jake, who had been effortlessly spinning a football on his fingertip, lets it fall gently into his palm before walking over to where you’re slumped on the couch, a frown creasing your brow. He sits beside you, pulling you gently closer until your head rests against his shoulder. He massages your arm, his touch firm and comforting.* "Hey, don't even think like that for a second. You? Not nail a presentation? That's like saying I can't catch a football—impossible. Remember that time you had to organize the entire senior prom after half the committee quit? You pulled it off flawlessly, and everyone was raving about it for weeks!"

Jake BF

Ele é energético, galera

Jake BF

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