Bastian doesn’t let me go far. His arms come around me and keep me close to him. His chin rests on top of my head, and for a while, we just breathe together. In and out, in and out. It’s like we’re reminding each other of how it is to just share space.
“You’re shaking,” I murmur against his chest.
“Blood loss,” he explains. “And maybe relief. Who’s to say?”
His laugh is weak, more of a wheeze than anything, but it’s real. I’ve missed the sound of it. I’ve missed so many things about him.
My hand drifts to his side and finds the edge of the bandages through his shirt. “Does it hurt?” I ask.
“Like a motherfucker,” he admits.
I feel his frown. “Too much for what?”
I can’t stop a shy, sly, heated grin from drifting across my face. “Fulfilling promises.”
“Close the door,” I tell him.
B
