“He takes my right hand and places it palm down on his chest. Then he traces around it with the pen, craning his neck to see, giving himself double chins.'What are you doing?'He shifts my hand away and starts scratching out letters on his skin. 'I worked out a tattoo - if I had one.'I look at what he's done. He's got the outline of my hand over his heart and in it he's written, Her.”

“I’ve worked out a tattoo – if I had one” says Ryan. I look at what he’s done. He’s got the outline of my hand over his heart and in it he’s written, Her...”

“Some phone calls he doesn't say much and I know he called just to hear my voice. That's all he wants- to hear me tell him about my day, what the surf's like, what work's like. And that's humbling, knowing that your voice can mean so much to another person.”

“I bury my face in my hands. And then Ryan does such a nice thing. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in against him. I can feel his body heat through his cotton T-shirt, and directly in front of me are the worn, faded knees of his jeans. But most of all, I can smell him. And he smells sandy-warm, like a beach. No one can see my face in there protected by his chest. Which is good because I can’t stop crying. I mean, I’m really going for the world record in terms of an inappropriate public breakdown. But it doesn’t matter, it just doesn’t matter. I’m sheltered.”

“He suddenly leaned in, and his fingers brushed my cheek. Warmth flooded my skin, and I frozen, waiting for him to pull back. He didnt. The tips of his fingers lingered on my cheek for a moment. Then, very slowly, his hand slipped forward, the palm brushing my skin. Frozen, I stared at him, watching his face as his fingers moved from my cheek to my forehead to my chin, like a blind man tracing someone's features to see them in his mind. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered.”

“He places his palm over my heart, then pulls my hand to his chest over his own heart. He lowers his eyes to my level, ensuring I’m here with him, giving him my complete attention. “Fuck all the firsts, Sky. The only thing that matters to me with you are the forevers.”

“He slides his hand over my cheek, one finger anchored behind my ear. Then he tilts his head down and kisses me, sending a warm ache through my body. I wrap my hands around his arm, holding him there as long as I can. When he touches me, the hollowed-out feeling in my chest and stomach is not as noticeable.”