Zeno: In your bedroom?
My chest stirs with a surge of tingling anticipation that radiates out to my fingertips. I should stop this—tell him it’s none of his business—but I don’t want to. I want to see where he’s taking me. I want to get burned by the fire he stokes.
Me: Yes.
Zeno: Lie back on the bed.
Zeno: Imagine I’m pressed up against you like we were on Friday.
My breath escapes my lips on shallow pants. Just as he said I’d been breathing that night.
I know the second I do as he says, the sensation will swarm me because it won’t be the first time I’ve sought out the feeling. Drawn it forth from my memories.
I start to move, then pause. My fingers tremble as I type.
Me: How did you know? Did Nevio tell you? Nevio said his pursuit of me wasn’t derived from spite for his brother,
