I’m not going to leave myself open to betrayal. I’m not going to let anyone close enough to try. Not after my own blood turned its back on me.
And yet, when April looks up at me with those warm, hazel eyes, the color of forest floors and riverbeds…
When she looks at me like that, I almost want to risk it all again.
It’s a foolish thought. It’s the haze of sleep, I tell myself, making me cling to stupid dreams. Childish dreams. Dreams I haven’t entertained in forever.
But why not dream a little longer?
Without thinking, I draw close. April draws closer still. Our breaths are brushing against each other, lips nearly touching. This isn’t going to be like all our other kisses, I realize. This isn’t going to be hungry, desperate, passionate. This isn’t going to be physical.
And then, just
