I swallow, hard, and mutter, “The second type of adrenaline high.” I sink one hand under the hem of her T-shirt solely so I can feel her naked skin. “A junkie who knows what’s coming next. It’s choreography that’s been done before.” For fourteen years, it’s a choreography I’ve only ever known with Holly. My gaze latches on to the rise and fall of her chest. “The thrill isn’t in the unknown but in the familiar, the sense that you’re coming home.”
