“Do you worry much about your soul, Rhodes?” In another world, he might have touched her. In another world, she would have welcomed it. “Always.” All it would take was a step. “Constantly.” His hands could be on her jeans, stroking a line down her navel, tucking her hair behind one ear. She recalled the sting of his sigh on her skin, the tremors of his wanting. “It terrifies me how easily I can watch it corrupt.”
