“My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing
Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep.
“I love you,” I murmured against his lips.
I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I
grabbed my guitar case and I left.
On the bus, I kept licking my lips; I tasted him, the salt
of his sweat, and a hint of cinnamon.”