He was curled around me, his breathing deep and even on the back of my neck.
We could hear the music downstairs and the sounds of people. They were walking around. The doors were opening and shutting. There were voices outside, then more voices inside. Car doors were shutting. More people arrived. Others were leaving. It was a free-for-all below.
And I didn’t want to move one bit.
Shay and I were in a protective bubble. He turned his lights off, flipping the switch on a lighted Mason jar so it lit up the room in a soft glow. I had trouble sleeping a few nights after the attack, so he bought it to help soothe me at night.
We were huddled under the blankets, his hand inching closer and closer to my breast.
I was waiting for when he’d start playing with it, but a new light shone up from
