Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)

by Rainbow Rowell

Baz looks so good right now, does he know it? All that inky black hair curling on his paper-pale neck. He looks less grey than usual. Or maybe I’ve just acclimated to it. I like him grey. I like him. I like his narrow shoulders—narrow compared to mine, anyway. All of him longer and leaner than me. I like comparing us. I want to lay myself over him elbow to elbow, hip to hip. I want to grow my hair out, so I can see what it looks like, twined up with his around my finger. Baz came back. This morning. He was always going to come back. I think he always will, if I make it good for him. I think he wants this, wants me. And I’m going to make it so good for him. This morning. This life. I’m being gentle—it’s already easier, now that I know how much he likes it. The way he goes boneless when I hold him like china. When my hands are whispers not shouts. I’m going to keep finding out what he likes. This is what people do. They get close and try to stay there. They stay. They keep trying to hold on to each other, even though it’s not really possible, I don’t think. Because people are always moving, aren’t they. But this is what they do. They keep trying. I’ll keep trying. To keep him well. To keep him happy. Merlin, I’m too turned on to think. I love him, I love him. But I also want to do this, whatever it is that works between us. With Agatha, it—No, never mind, that doesn’t matter. I’m holding Baz’s jaw and kissing him. I’m stroking his cheek like he’ll break. My cock is in his hi...