Page 304 of Bitter’s Sweet

My heart does enough of that for both of us.

I stop in front of her.

“You okay?” she asks again.

“Yeah.”

“Liar.”

“Improving.”

She smiles.

Actually smiles.

It hits harder than Razor's knife did.

“You miss him.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Sweet looks toward the dark road where Raven’s procession disappeared earlier.

“You guys do death differently.”

“We own a funeral home.”

“That isn't what I mean.”

“I know.”

She folds her arms against the cold.

I glance toward my bike, where I left a black hoodie hooked over the handlebar before the procession.

“Cold?”

Sweet notices me asking instead of deciding.

“Yes.”

“Want the hoodie?”

Her eyes soften. “Yeah.”

I get it and hand it to her.

Sweet slips it on. It hangs too big on her, sleeves swallowing half her hands, and something primitive and stupid inside me starts pounding its chest.

I tell it to sit the fuck down.

“Temporary,” she says.

“I know.”