Chapter 21: Withdrawal

Russell's POV

I did not answer her.

I turned on the step and took her face in both hands, the bandaged one and the good one.

Her skin was wet and warm under my thumbs.

"Say it again," I said.

"I was ashamed."

"The part before that."

"I should have told you at the altar," she whispered.

I kissed her.

It was not gentle.

Twelve days of her name in my mouth came out all at once, and she made a small sound against my lips and grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt.

She kissed me back like she had been starving for it.

Her mouth opened under mine, and I tasted salt and coffee and every Sunday we had ever had.

"Russell," she said.

"Don't talk."

"I want to say it."

"Then say it later."

I pulled her into my lap on the porch step, and she came, knees on either side of my hips.

Her hands went into my hair.

Mine went up under the back of her sweater and found her bare skin, hot and smooth along her spine.

She shivered against me.

I kissed her throat, and she tipped her head back and let me.

"You said condition three," she said, breathless.

"I did."

"I'm not through Kayla."

"I noticed."

"Tell me to stop."

"I don't think I will," I said, and I felt her laugh against my mouth, shaky and glad.

I bit her lip, lightly, and her hips moved against me.

I stopped thinking about rules.

"Inside," I said.

"Yes."

"Now."

She climbed off me, took my good hand, and pulled me through the kitchen.

In the kitchen I stopped.

It was the table where I had stood at midnight with my mother's chart in my hand.

She felt me go stiff.

"Not here," she said at once. "Upstairs."

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