“Yeah.”
He presses his lips to my hair.
“Did he put his hands on you?”
“No.”
He tilts my chin up. Looks.
“You'd tell me?”
“Yeah.”
He pulls back. He looks at my face. He thumbs a line of sweat off my temple.
“You ran here.”
“You told me to run here.”
His mouth twitches.
“I told you to say you were going for a run. I had a cab on standby.”
“I ran here.”
He huffs a laugh that's mostly air. He shakes his head.
“Kid.”
“I needed to move.”
“Yeah, okay. I get that.”
He pushes my damp hair off my forehead.
“Also, I wanted to see you.”
“Yeah, I get that too.”
He kisses me.
Not soft. Not morning-slow. He kisses me like he's been holding the kiss in his mouth since the door closed on me in his apartment this morning.
“Trail,” he says against my mouth. “Let's walk.”
“Walk where?”
He grabs my hand. Threads our fingers.
“I scouted this.”
“You scouted?”
“Yeah.”
I stare at him.
“When?”
