"You're a force," observes Faye, stating what feels obvious by now. He's all around her, crowding or sheltering, she can't tell the difference, even if the latter doesn't feel like it fits. Her hands linger still by his shirt, tracing a wrinkle through the leather until she meets the zipper by the side, nail tapping its way down the teeth without pulling it open. "Of course they wouldn't want you back."

She drops her hands then, one resting gently on top of his thigh as she tilts her head, chasing after the vague, intangible warmth of his breath. Closing her eyes to make the pattern easier to follow.

What does it say about her that she kissed him after what he did? Maybe he'd have a better idea than she does right now. Her hand raises, thumb brushing against the subtle hollow of his cheek and up over the bone.

"One more condition," she says, the tip of her nose bumping against his own. "My apartment's a block away."