Even now at Venice Beach, she pictured sunbathers laughing as soon as she tugged off her shirt. Snickering at Reese, too, wondering what on earth is he doing with that black thing? That night, when they came home from the beach, Reese slid on top of her and she asked if she could flip on the light. He laughed a little, burrowing his face into her neck. “Why?” he murmured. “Because,” she said, “I want to see you.” He stilled for a moment, then he rolled off her. “Well, I don’t want you to,” he said.
