The look of him made me smile. The green eyes, the glasses he’d left on during s*x, the big ears their limbs curled around, and the perfect nose they sat on. His naked body reminded me of the statue of Poseidon in Copenhagen Port, all deep sculpted roundness with hard and soft fleshiness and muscle, much of it dusted or covered in orange. “Here.” I ripped off a sheet of paper that floated down to the bed once I’d released it, like one of the snowflakes outside. “Try.”
“It’s going to suck.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it. Maybe Jefferson will help. He drew me, remember, when I thought I was drawing him?”
“I’m going to need all the help I can get.” Patrick reached for the paper. “And a pencil.”
I tossed him one he caught like a pro.
“We’re back to Titanic,” he said, “except I see a much happier
