“I missed you today,” I murmured, rinsing the suds from her hair with warm water I cast from my palm. “So clingy,” she teased sleepily. “Sometimes, I think I miss you even while you’re with me, the knowledge that you’ll have somewhere to go, something to do, somewhere to be, always hanging there, waiting to steal you away again.” Roxy breathed a laugh then moaned again as I worked the conditioner through her hair next. “I am a queen,” she pointed out. “Everyone wants a piece of you,” I agreed.
