58
t’s a passionate kiss, but it’s also searingly tender. My head tilted back, I sink into him, fisting my hands into the front of his shirt and breathing his scent into my nose. When he breaks the kiss, it’s to whisper another line from Romeo and Juliet into my ear. “‘But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’” My voice strangled, I whisper back, “I will stab you in the heart with a cocktail fork.” He pulls away, still cradling my face in his hands. His smile is achingly beautiful and sad. “You’ve already stabbed me in the heart, thief. Now it’s just a matter of seeing how long it will take for me to bleed to death.” We gaze at each other, all thoughts of the three staring women vanished. He sweeps his thumb gently over my cheekbone, th
- Writer
