“I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, which keeps the business part of my brain temporarily disabled.”

“I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest, wishing sincerely that Rhiannon would get hit by a bus.”

“I rested my head on the wall behind me and closed my eyes, wishing my life had a button: Ignore All.”

“I nuzzle up against him, eyes closed, my nose at his throat, drinking in his sexy Christian-and-spiced-musky bodywash fragrance, my head on his shoulder. I let my mind drift, and I allow myself to fantasize that he loves me. Oh, and it's so real, tanglible almost, and a small part of my nasty harpy subconscious acts completely out of character and dares to hope.”

“Taking a step forward, I stood in the light, tilted my head back and closed my eyes. It held my face and wrapped its arms around my shoulders, and for the very first time, I let hope in. (Lillian Hunt)”

“I close my eyes, thinking that there is nothing like an embrace after an absence, nothing like fitting my face into the curve of his shoulder and filling my lungs with the scent of him.”