“I'd inquired him about being safe, he had reached into the drawer of the beside table and drawn out a satin-lined box of condoms. "Standard rock-star equipment," he'd said with a sly smile.”

“That's three times you've hurt my feelings in one conversation," he said a bit gruffly."Three times?" I really hadn't mean to be rude.He counted on his fingers. "You don't like my music. I'm a soccer dad. And I'm good-looking... 'for a rock star'. ”

“And then I heard Nico's voice. It was a song I've never heard before. I struggled to make out the lyrics. "You were my hands," I heard him sing. "You were my eyes. There's nothing left to reach for now, nothing left to see.”

“And then he reached toward me again, this time with both arms, as though he might wrap them around me to give me some comfort. But then he stopped, bit his lip, folded his arms, and strode away.”

“Let to your own devices, you'd show up for the wedding in overalls," he said."But they'd be white ones.”

“When Nico bent to kiss me, I shut my eyes, absorbing all that was familiar about him - his taste, the softness of his lips, his arms holding me steadily - and I could tell he was the same, drinking me in, committing my kiss to memory as we found our way home to each other in the gathering dark.”

“This can't be real," he said into my hair. "This has to be an acid flashback." I laughed, delighted to be in his arms. "I swear I'm not an acid flashback.”