“Now,” he gasped. Then he made a bunch of sounds that sort of had a consonant and a vowel as shoes got removed, or at least rearranged. I helped her a little with mine, because after all, he only had one hand to work with. he kept urging me to hurry, though without words. And then I was kneeling on the floor and he was spread beneath me on the couch, our hips aligning, and I leaned down to find her mouth again and—
—and I felt her stiffen with sudden pain, felt the catch in her breath as it hit her. Her shoulder or her leg, I couldn’t tell, but, dammit, he was supposed to be recovering, not … being athletic.
Her eyes opened all the way. he blinked at me a few times and asked, “What?”
“I …” I mumbled. “I don’t know if …”
he seized my shirt in her good hand and dragged me toward her, e
