“Barely.”
“That’s too bad.”
“You look beautiful,” he murmured.
The remark threw me. I began to dismiss it, to remind him it was silly, just my Halloween costume. This wasn’t me, not really. But I shut my mouth.
The fact that he’d said that when he couldn’t even see me . . . My heart warmed. He was so firmly rooted in the present, it told me the thought had been on his mind, lingering, and though it was totally irrelevant to anything we’d spoken about, he’d chosen to say it. Maybe he had thought of me, when and if he’d jerked off.
I scooted closer and hugged him, resting my head on his shoulder.
We sat that way for ages, and if life had simply stopped, frozen where it was for the rest of time, I’d have been perfectly happy. But since life comes with the annoying baggage of momentum, I
