“He grabbed the microphone in both hands, his face exploding into a smile at the sensation. “Hey. Do not. I repeat. Do. Not. Panic. There’s nothing to be scared of. This is just your average everyday fucking miracle.”

“Is this what you do with your spare time?” he asked me, ignoring his sister.“What—are you deciding to talk to me now?” Smiling tightly, I grabbed a handful of mulch and dumped it. Rinse and repeat. “Yeah, it’s kind of a hobby. What’s yours? Kicking puppies?”

“Oh, God,’ he whispers, reaching his hand behind my neck and bringing my lips to his. ‘Let’s let the whole fucking world explode this time.’And we do.”

“He followed the lines of her face and arms. Livia bit the inside of her cheek as he outlined her breasts. He knelt in front of her and traced her legs in the air.Livia held her breath. Will he stay? Can he stay? Please stay.On his knees, Blake kept his eyes on hers as he slowly pulled off his glove, finger by finger, until the sun shone on his bare hand.She saw the panic run through his eyes and lips. Livia broke her silence and grabbed his uncovered hand. “I don’t believe your skin is glass, but I believe in you.”Blake took another breath and squeezed her hand. He smiled as he looked at their hands in sunlight together. He released her to take off his second glove and stood up. He grabbed both her hands, and they were joined.”

“Don't panic. Say, Hey, no problem. Run a hand through your hair like the whiteboys do even though the only thing that runs easily through your hair is Africa.”

“He didn't move, just stood with a pleasant smile. But I wouldn't be fooled. How many times had I faces just like his on the news? Well, maybe not just like his. He was better looking than the average psychos.”