“After a while, it got too hard not to let him take my hand in the hallway, or snug up behind me at my locker, his chin balanced on the top of head as his hands snaked around my waist. After a while I wanted to share it, to show it off, to let the world see why I was smiling like a complete idiot half the time.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I snapped.“I’m yours.”That socked me in the gut too, so hard it winded me and all I could do was stare up at him. Taking advantage, his face dipped close and his hands curled around both sides of my head.“First fuckin’ time you smiled at me in my bed, that’s when it happened,” he murmured. “You’re under my skin. I’m under yours.”I shook my head and his face got even closer, all I could see were his sky blue eyes, all I could feel were his lips a breath away from mine.“I like you there, buddy, and you like me there too.”

“My brother threw up his hands. "What does a woman need to do, Harry? Rip her clothes off, throw herself on top of you, and shimmy while screaming, 'Do me, baby!'?" he shook his head. "Sometimes you're a frigging idiot.”

“You said you needed to see me again, too.''Did it help?''More than you'll ever know.'I tightened my arm around his waist, wanting nothing more from the moment than what it was.That simple moment, touching him, feeling him breathe, his hand stroking my hair—it was all I could have hoped for, all I could have wanted. I was filled up with it, this warm, buzzing feeling in my chest, and it was completely satisfying.I wondered if it might be what I needed after all.”

“I look up after the last chord and smile. I tell Antony Barellan to shove it up his arse, and I see Dad clapping his hands off. I give him a little wave to show him that it's okay to be happy. I give him a little smile to show him what it looks like.”

“I kissed him, let him kiss me, let him clutch my hips, curl his fingers into the fabric of my shirt, slide his hands around my waist and splay them against my back, pull me infinitesimally closer. He made a sound, a growl or purr, some predatory noise that rumbled in his throat, then said my name. And this time, it wasn’t a question but a sound of victory, a claim on his prize.”