He walked her backward toward the bed. Not rushed, just directed, his hands moving from her hips to her waist as they moved, and when the back of her knees hit the mattress he caught her, lowered her down onto it like she was worth the care. She landed against the cream-colored sheets and looked up at him standing over her and felt the nervous return at a different frequency. Lower. More specific.
"Hi," she said, slightly ridiculous.
"Hi," he said back, not even a little ridiculous, somehow. He sat beside her and reached out, tucking a strand of pink-black hair back from her face with his thumb. "Tell me if anything's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong."
"Naomi."
"I'll tell you," she promised. "I will actually tell you."
He nodded once. Then he leaned down and kissed her jaw. Just below her ear. Her breath came out choppy.
