Chapter 1: Shell

I am trembling now, standing in front of him. Have to keep forcing my eyes up from the ground to look into his face. There’s pain there. God. He’s thinner.

And we don’t touch.

Forcing myself to swallow, I avert my gaze. Take deep breaths. I feel like I want to run, somehow, just hightail it out of here. My feet itch to do it, especially since it’s painful to even look at him.

Before I make up my mind—it’s been over a year since we’ve been alone in a room together, but this is harder than I’d thought or dreamed, when I’d ache to feel his touch on my skin, smell his soft warm smell that made me feel so safe ... how empty I felt inside knowing Logan was hundreds of miles away—but before I make up my mind, he says so softly, ’Georgie.’

Just my name. Just how I’d heard it a thousand times in my dreams since we’d been separated.

So, I stayed, although trembling. The space between us, about two feet, felt too close. It was like my skin was burning being so close, even though a much older part of me inside rose, in quick joy, to see him. To be so near.

Closed my eyes. Focused on my body, feeling it hum. The sound of the birds and wind and trees outside, lazy and content, not a care in the world. It made me feel steadier. Just like Mimi taught me how to do, how to ground myself. The hum lengthened, quietened. Then ... it was brief, but I caught a smell of my brother. A warmth bloomed inside me, opening and ripening like a summer peach, and I let it, feeling my nipples harden. Only when I opened my eyes, looking down at the fingerless gloves that had become a staple in my wardrobe, did my stomach drop a little. While I tugged at the wrists as I’d been told not to do (but couldn’t seem to help it, anyway), I looked up to see Logan watching me.

His eyes were on my gloves, too, but when he saw me look up, he dropped his gaze and gave a little reassuring smile. Maybe we’d talk about this tonight. Maybe not. Who knew how far we’d get. We had two weeks, if I didn’t run straight out the door at some point and drive away.

My eyes were on his lips, now, and I knew he saw. But we made no movement towards each other. I remembered how his lips could comfort me. How he could arouse me so just with a long, slow kiss. How addicted we would get to the kissing.

We didn’t touch. But I tried to smile.

‘Please, come with me.’