I walked through the dry grass, and I was moving slower, watching where I put my feet. Sorry, nothing, just babbling to myself. And when in the last twenty-four hours could you have fed the ardeur, and who on? The question stopped the self-recriminations and helped me think. I had a moment, a heartbeat, where I smelled Barbara Brown's skin underneath the sweetness of her perfume.
But no, Richard wasn't that aware of his body, at least not for seduction. I hadn't asked, and I'd been so busy trying not to be tied to another man through some weird metaphysical shit, that I hadn't noticed that Damian's life sucked. I finally settled for staring at his chest, watching his body movements as if he'd been a bad guy and it was a fight. I shook my head.
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