Dropping my shit, I dug out a cigarette and lit it, staring at her with the sheet wrapped around her body and just wanting to dive into her hair and lips and the warmth of her bed just minutes ago. How did so much change in such a short time? She heard the lighter, smelled the smoke, a troubled look crossing her beautiful face. “You smoke?” she asked so quietly. I could hear the tires screech to a halt outside and the doors slam. I darted my eyes to hers. “Don’t let me go,” I told her, breathing hard. “No matter what you hear or what they say, don’t let me go.” She shook her head. “What do you
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