We lie there, saying nothing, staring at each other. Goddamn, she’s gorgeous. Those fathomless hazel eyes that burn like stars. I can’t help it. The need to touch her chases away common sense. I lean in, pressing a kiss to her warm brow. “That’s a kiss,” she says softly. “It’s on your forehead,” I grunt, irritated at her rules even when she’s in the hospital. “It doesn’t count.” “Pretend we’re in a motel,” she parrots. “You can deal with it.”
