Page 70 of Molt

“Because I’d told you we couldn’t see each other anymore.”

“And that pissed me off?”

“Deeply.”

I laugh again.

August’s expression changes. His smile disappears. The way he looks at me nearly breaks something open inside my chest.

“Where did you go?”

“Nowhere.”

“You looked sad.”

“I’m always sad.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“I’m one hundred and seventy-four. I’ve earned dramatic.”

I smile. Then touch his cheek.

His eyes close. For one second, August leans into my hand.

Barely. But he does.

“August.”

His eyes open.

“I don’t remember loving you.”

The words hurt him. I see it immediately.

“I know.”

“But my body does.”

He goes still.

“When you touched me downstairs, I knew you.”

“Lenora...”

“When you kissed me, I knew what you would taste like before you did.”

His breathing slows.

“I knew where your hands would go.”

“Stop.”

“I knew how you’d breathe.”

“Lenora.”

“I knew how you’d look at me afterward.”