A beat of silence holds between us. He leans in and wipes my lip clean. “Ketchup,” he says quietly. Then he sticks his thumb in his mouth and licks it clean with a pop. Preschool Jesus with a Carpentry Awl, my wires are crossing. And as he leans close, he hits me with his spicy, clean scent. I stare into his kind eyes, absorbing his sheer size and proximity. I decide Ren is living temptation. I want under him. Yesterday.
