Page 118 of Shatter

Something rises up in me I don't have a name for, old and hot and fierce, a want to keep her so deep it scares me.

She looks back at me over her shoulder.

Her face is flushed, her lips swollen, her lashes wet, her hair a copper tangle across her cheek.

I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

"Come here." My voice is gone, rough and soft at once.

We slide down to the concrete together.

My back finds the stack of tires by the wall, and I pull her into my lap, her legs across my thighs, her head on my shoulder.

The work light buzzes overhead.

The shop smells like sex and her.

She doesn't say anything for a long time.

Then she lifts her hand and touches my face.

Her fingertips trace my jaw, slow, from my ear to my chin.

She follows the line of my eyebrow with her thumb, then the other one.

She looks at me like she's trying to learn my face by heart.

Her eyes fill.

I watch the tears gather and spill over, and she doesn't wipe them away.

It's the fight.

She's still raw from it, still carrying what she said.

I turn my head and press my lips to her temple and hold them there.

"It's okay." My lips move against her hair. "We're okay, Anni."

She makes a small sound and presses her face into my neck.

Her arms go around me, and she holds on so tight her nails bite into my back.

I carry her back.

Out the side door of the shop, across the dark gravel lot with the cicadas screaming in the pines, through the back door of the clubhouse and down the hall to my room.

She's light in my arms.

Her face is buried in my shoulder, over the bite mark, and she doesn't lift it.

I lay her down on my bed, climb in beside her, under the blanket, and pull her against me.

She turns into my chest.

Her breath is warm on my skin.

My arms go around her, low on her back, nowhere near her neck, and my eyes are already closing.