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

by Rainbow Rowell

I squeeze his neck. I’m going to ride this out, we’re going to— “Baz? Are you okay?” I . . . I nod. “You’re still cold,” he says, and he brings a wing over and around me. “I’m fine. Are—Are you okay?” He pets my cheek. His thumb ghosts over my bottom lip. “If you are.” I squeeze his neck. “That’s not how it works, Snow.” “Isn’t it?” Is it? He hasn’t moved his leg. I haven’t moved mine. We’re slotted together and sticky. I put my arm around his waist, carefully, and flatten my hand against his back. I’ve been biting my lip. “I’m okay.” Simon kisses me. He’s still being so gentle. Maybe I’ll have to tell him that he can stop now. (Maybe I’ll never tell him.) “You’re being quiet,” he says. “Only because you’re kissing me.” “You’re being weird.” “You’re not . . .” I shake my head. Our lips brush. I shiver. He tightens his wing around me. “You’re not freaking out.” “Did you want me to?” he asks. “It’s probably not too late.” “No . . . I . . .” Simon slides one hand down to the back of my neck, and wraps the other arm around me. He’s mirroring me. He’s gentling me. He whispers, “I don’t know what you’re thinking. I can’t tell whether I should be embarrassed or sorry or . . .” “Or what?” His mouth is close to mine. “Happy?” I close my eyes and let out a breath. “Is that on the table?” “Baz . . . we kinda sorta had sex. And I didn’t cry or break anything.” I laugh. It sounds wet. “Babe . . .” he says. That’s new. That’s extraordinarily stupid. “Are you freaking out?” I hold him a ...