“Open,” she said, digging a bent finger into my cheek. I gave up the fight. I didn’t care if she’d learned this from some snake oil science video she found on social media. I didn’t want her to stop. “And close,” she said, slowly dragging that finger down the ridge of my jaw. A sound grunted out of me as the motion unspooled some ancient store of pressure. “What the hell was that?” She brought two fingers to either side of my jaw, slipping through my scruff and working up to my ear and then back down. “Just me being right once again.” “Hmm. Should’ve known.”
