He stripped out of his jacket and tossed it on the ground behind him. I glanced at him, and in the near dark of the streetlights, he was mostly in shadow. Licked the jumping thud of his pulse, just a quick flick of my tongue. Why? he asked again.
He moved to lean against the back of Graham's seat, a little closer to me. It helped me stay on my knees. He'd been banging things around the kitchen. It was as if Richard's body broke the plane of some barrier, as if my body were a door, and we'd pushed inside.
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