“The End of HerShe’s sitting on the hillHoping for a dayWhen her dreams don’t hit the roadShe’s throwing rocks and yellingAt the sky and at the weatherShe’s yelling at foreverThat’s been breathing on her neckShe can’t start with him againHe’s got the end of herHe can’t give her oceanAnd he can’t give her herHe’s staring where she satIt’s the plastic that reminds himOf something that they hadHe says, “I’d give up sex foreverIf she’d say we’re back together”But he’s making promises he knowsIt’d kill them both to keepShe can’t start with him againHe’s got the end of herHe can’t give her oceanAnd he can’t give her her”

“But his eyes say what he can’t. I see it, clear as day, even if she doesn’t. He’d give up his wings for her. All she’d have to do is ask.”

“You can’t keep her.”I know that. But I’m not ready to give her up just yet.”

“It’s my baby. I can’t just let her give it away—”

“Griffin, please,” she whispered.“Do you want me?” he asked.“Yes!” She tossed her head restlessly. She’d explode if he didn’t give her release soon.“Do you need me?” He kissed her nipple too gently.“Please, please, please.”“Do you love me?”And somehow, despite her extremis, she saw the gaping hole of the trap. She peered up at him blindly in the dark. She couldn’t see his face, his expression.“Griffin,” she sighed hopelessly.“You can’t say it, can you?” he whispered. “Can’t admit it either.”

“No.” He wouldn’t lie about that. Not to her. And not because she’d rip him to pieces when she discovered the truth. “I can’t give you forever.”The nibbling increased in intensity, leaving a bead of blood in the center of her mouth. “Because we’re not a good match?”Of course she would remember every insult he’d ever thrown at her. “Yes.”“Then what can you give me?”“Here. Now.” Something his body craved more with every second that passed.”