Heat touched the top of my head lightly, and what I knew had to be a palm spread across the space between my shoulder blades, pulling me in even closer to that coverall-covered body. Rip’s voice was low, as he said, “S’all right, Luna. Don’t cry.” The hand on my spine moved up and down, up and down. “I’m sorry.” “You got nothing to be sorry about,” he said into my hair, his arms strong. “Not a single fucking thing.” I didn’t say anything. I just stayed there, inhaling and exhaling him… mostly on accident, but on purpose too. Like medicine but for all the other little hurts. The big hurts too.
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