Malcolm Bright

When Raylan's grip on him loosened, his hand fell to the strap of Raylan's undershirt and tightened. He didn't pull away. He was processing, but one thing his hands knew was they wanted to hold on to the solid warmth beneath them.

"You..." He'd known. He'd know all along. "You weren't avoiding me."

He'd been sure that was what would have happened if he'd told him.