Then we each take a step forward. Then another. Then one more. And before we’ve thought anything through or had time to ponder our next move, our arms are wrapped around each other, her hot breath against my neck, her hair that smells like daffodils tickling my nose. I pull her close, breathing in every ounce of her, savoring her warmth. She feels like home. “Dean,” she whispers, her voice breaking on my name like it split her in half.
