Eliza We stare at each other. My heart is pumping so hard that I can feel my pulse throughout my body. I dust the backs of my fingers through the hair on his lower stomach, and his eyes flicker shut as if he likes it. I open my mouth to say something. “Don’t,” he cuts me off. Whatever’s happening right now, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He trails his finger down my clavicle, between my breasts, and then lower to my stomach. My entire body begins to thrum, as if waking from a two-year long hibernation. He turns me away from him in a quick movement, and our gaze goes back to our reflection
...more
