‘I don’t. That moment when I saw you in the airport was the most alive I’ve felt for ten years.’
He got up and came over to her. Her room seemed very small all of a sudden. When he kissed her, it was with so much passion and desire that she had to put her hand against the wall to steady herself.‘I’m very disappointed,’ he said. ‘But it’s your choice.’
Robbie returned to the bookcase and sat cross-legged on the floor, perusing the shelves.Emily stood there for a long moment, her hand on her lips. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could see rather a lot of him: his arms and legs, lean and muscular and covered with dark hair. The sole of his bare foot was presented to her – the skin there was darker than the skin on his legs, probably from walking around without shoes – and something about the underside of his toes, the way they curled into soft pads, was unbearably vulnerable and naked.There was no pressure to sleep with him. Only temptation.
She straightened her shoulders. ‘You can sleep on the floor,’ she told him, taking a blanket and a pillow off her bed. She spread the blanket out on the floor, right next to her bed. There was nowhere else to spread it.‘It should be better than a park, anyway,’ she said.
‘Much better. Thank you.’
He was looking at her now. He made no move to lie down on the blanket.It was a long time ago.
Yeah, but as he knew, time didn’t heal shit. Just as he knew—at least in his experience—that crime didn’t discriminate. Bad shit happened to good people. What about your parents?What about them? she asked.
Why were you living with your grandpa and not them?She shrugged. They weren’t really parent material. She met his questioning gaze. They were kids when the stick turned blue. They weren’t a couple or anything. My dad didn’t stay around, and my mom wasn’t . . . equipped to deal back then.