The first time he slept over was an accident. He came to watch a movie, which for me became an exercise in remaining perfectly still while I focused on the proximity of his legs. After the credits rolled, we talked until dawn. Then he began listing his hesitations about “us,” even though we had never touched.

“I’m working through a breakup,” he said. “Well, it ended a year ago. I’m leaving the city soon. But I’ll be back in a month. I’m not sure I’m grounded.” After a long pause, he asked what my hesitations might be.

I wasn’t sure where to start, so I pointed out that it was getting late — or early, depending how you look at it — and asked if he wanted to sleep over. “If you do sleep over,” I added, “you don’t even have to kiss me.”

He laughed. As we slept through the morning, he reached for me shyly and held on.

[Sign up for Love Letter, our weekly email. And catch up on all things Modern Love.]