Chapter 22: No Comments

We walked back to Dunmore House without saying anything, and our hands kept bumping.

Neither of us tapped or pressed.

We had both tried, twice, on the steps of the field house, and the air had stayed as empty as a clean plate.

There was a note on the door of the third floor room, in Beau's block capitals.

I AM AT THE HOTEL. THE HOTEL IS YOUR BED. DON'T LET ME KNOW.

Griffin closed the door behind us and leaned on it.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"This is weird."

"It's very weird," I said. "I don't know what to do with my hands."

He crossed the room and took both of them, one in each of his own.

"Hold these," he said. "That's the job."

I laughed, and the sound went up into the quiet room and stayed there, with nothing over it.

He kissed me.

It was a slow kiss, with no hurry in it at all, and when it ended, we were standing very close, breathing each other's air.

"Say something," I said. "Out loud."

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"That I'll say it wrong, and there's no bracket to hide in."

"Good," I said. "I'm scared too."

I undid the top button of his shirt.

Then the next, and the next, slowly, with my eyes on his face.

He stood and let me, and his throat moved when I pushed the cloth off his shoulders.

"You're looking at me," he said.

"I'm allowed to."

"You've never looked this long before."

"I always had a joke ready." I put my palm flat on his chest. "I'm out of jokes. I just have you."

He took a breath that shook.

Then he turned me around, and I felt his fingers at the zipper of my dress, going down one tooth at a time.

The dress slid off my shoulders and pooled on the floor.

His mouth landed on the back of my neck, and then on my shoulder blade, and a tremor ran down my spine.

"There's nothing over your head," he said, against my skin. "It's just you."

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