“I sat up then, looking at him appraisingly, knowing that was the moment I could stop everything if I wanted to. “Maybe you should go,” I whispered, as I ran my hand through his hair slowly.“Maybe I should stay,” he said, bringing his lips to mine again.”

“You're making this really hard for me," he said quietly, holding my face in his hands."So maybe you should give in.""I don't want you to think that's all I want from you.""What else do you want from me?""Everything," he whispered and brushed his lips against mine.”

“The feeling of his lips on my skin and his hand just below my breasts sent shivers through my body. I ran my hands through his soft hair, slipping in a kiss as he ran his tongue up my neck. His lips met mine again.”

“He stops kissing, but his lips stay touching mine, lightly, like a feather would. "I'm bad for you, Sarah. I won't ever be the gentleman you need.""Maybe I don’t want gentle."He pulls something from his dress pants and presses it into my hand. "And that is my fault.”

“I open my mouth to, I don't know, apologize again maybe. But he takes my face in his hands and presses his forehead to mine. And he's so close that I can feel his little warm breaths, and all I know is that when he draws his next breath, I want to get sucked in.Our lips touched, almost as soft as not touching at all. Then they press closer to each other, draw back uncertainly, touch again. There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.”

“I started to speak to him in his native tongue, "why would you want to sit with me?" He pressed his lips together, and his eyebrows screwed up. He ran a hand through his spiky black hair. "I don' speak Japanese," He said in English. "But My parents do." "Strange," I said. "A Japanese boy who only speaks English?”