He lifts his arm, exposing that Georgia-shaped spot. One corner of his mouth quirks into the easy smile I haven’t seen in private for years, executed perfectly. “Come on in,” he says, like he’s inviting me into his home. The hug doesn’t last long, but I can feel every point where Eli and I are connected, the way his fingers tighten around my ribs. I swear I feel his breath stutter against my hair, but maybe it’s the breeze. I breathe out slowly, not wanting to inhale any piece of him.
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