Page 37 of His Wall

"You're different out here," I said.

"So are you."

"I like this version."

"You don't know this version."

"I'd like to."

She did not answer. Her gray eyes came up off the water. They went to my mouth. She did not pull them back.

I lifted my right hand.

I tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. Slow. The pad of my thumb ran along the line of her jaw on the way back. My fingers brushed her cheek.

She did not flinch.

She leaned into my hand. A fraction. Her breath caught.

I leaned in.

Slow. The slow was the asking. She had time to stop me. I took half a second between my hand and her mouth and she did not stop me. Her hand came up off the railing and rested flat against my chest. Not pushing. Just there. The warmth of her palm came through my T-shirt.

Our mouths met.

Soft. Just the press. Her lips parted against mine a quarter-inch and gave back. I held there for a second. Long enough for her to pull away if she was going to.

Her fingers curled into my shirt.

She pulled me closer.

The softness burned off.

My right hand slid up from her jaw to the back of her neck, into the heavy weight of her hair where it was still damp at the nape. My left hand came to her waist. She tasted like salt and like the coffee she must have had this morning before she ran. Her mouth opened more. I felt her teeth catch my lower lip for half a second before her tongue moved against mine and a sound came out of her throat — small, low, almost not a sound at all.

I felt it through my whole body.

My heart was loud.

Her hand was a fist in my shirt. The other hand had come up off the railing and was at my ribs, pressed flat against my side. She was up on her toes the smallest amount. The railing was at her back. The river was below us. The bird was gone.

I kissed her.

She pulled back.

Her hand was still on my chest. Her breath was on my chin. Her gray eyes opened and came up to mine.

I watched her face change.

The wall came back. Not the way it usually came back — fast, cold, one feature at a time. This time it came back slow, against her will, like she was watching it come back and could not stop it. I had never seen her put it up after kissing me.

"This can't happen."

"It already did."

She dropped her hand off my chest. She stepped back. Her face was Claire's face by the time her foot touched the path again but her gray eyes were not, not yet, not quite.

"I have to go."