“Peter curled his hands into fists at his sides. 'Kiss me,' he said.She leaned towards him slowly, until her face was too close to be in focus. Her hair fell over Peter's shoulder like a curtain and her eyes closed. She smelled like autumn-like apple cider and slanting sun and the snap of the coming cold. He felt his heart scrambling, caught inside the confines of his own body.Josie's lips landed just on the edge of his, almost his cheek and not quite his mouth. 'I'm glad I wasn't stuck in here alone,' she said shyly, and he tasted the words, sweet as mint on her breath.”

“She reached out to him and stroked his cheek. His skin was like velvet as he leaned his face into her hand and closed his eyes. He breathed a sigh and her eyes drifted to his lips. Soft, luscious. Her lips ached to take the kiss there. She leaned in towards Jonas, but he opened his eyes and placed two fingers on her lips to stop her.”

“Ross held her face between his hands and kissed her. He tasted doubt on her tongue and pain on the roof of her mouth. He swallowed these, and drank again. Consumed, she had no choice but to see how empty he was inside, and how, sip by sip, she filled him. ”

“What’s your name again?”“Peter. Peter Granford.”Lewis opened up his mouth to speak, but then just shook his head.“What?” The boy ducked his head. “You just, uh, looked like you were going to say somethingimportant.”Lewis looked at this namesake, at the way he stood with his shoulders rounded, as if he did notdeserve so much space in this world. He felt that familiar pain that fell like a hammer on hisbreastbone whenever he thought of Peter, of a life that would be lost to prison. He wished he’dtaken more time to look at Peter when Peter was right in front of his eyes, because now he would beforced to compensate with imperfect memories or-even worse-to find his son in the faces ofstrangers.Lewis reached deep inside and unraveled the smile that he saved for moments like this, when therewas absolutely nothing to be happy about. “It was important,” he said. “You remind me of someoneI used to know.”

“How could he convey to someone who'd never even met her the way she always smelled like rain, or how his stomach knotted up every time he saw her shake loose her hair from its braid? How could he describe how it felt when she finished his sentences, turnec the mug they were sharing so that her mouth landed where his had been? How did he explain the way they could be in a locker room, or underwater, or in the piney woods of Maine, bus as long as Em was with him, he was at home?”

“The pull toward him came from her center. Her eyes never left his face as she moved to her hands and knees. She crawled slowly over the blanket, the breakfast, his legs, until her hands rested on either side of his hips. His smile lifted only on one side. He took care to stay very still, but his mouth opened slightly as she approached. This close to Blake she could smell him. Fresh, sweet fall leaves and mint.”

“It was at first almost as if he hadn't wanted to kiss her. His mouth was hard on hers, unyielding; then he put both arms around her and pulled her against him. His lips softened. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples still on his mouth. She wound her hands into his hair, as she'd wanted to do since the first time she'd seen him. His hair curled around her fingers, silky and fine. Her heart was hammering, and there was a rushing sound in her ears, like beating wings”