They hugged again, merrily, waltzing messily in the kitchen, and kissed, merrily, waltzing more. “What do you want to do with your three hours?” Ronan asked. Adam peered around the kitchen. He always looked at home in it; it was all the same colors as him, washed out and faded and comfortable. “I’m starving. I need to eat. I need to take off your clothes. But first, I want to look at Bryde.”
