Chapter Seven
The disease was spreading. Now not only did Spinelli feel a phantom pang on his lips, but it had also moved to his hands. He was repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists. He rubbed his fingers against his pant legs, seeking the friction there to erase what he'd touched. Nothing helped. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind that he needed to touch Romey again. To hold her to him. To place his lips upon hers.
He’d almost taken her into his arms before Jules had come up. If Jules hadn’t interrupted, what would he have done? He knew exactly what he’d have done. He would’ve kissed his wife right there, under the stars, in front of everyone they knew, and for no logical reason. Other than he couldn’t stop himself.
He had to get himself in order
