His brow tightened.
“It was ours before it was the accident’s.”
He became still.
“I don’t want to give it away.”
“You don’t need to hear it again soon.”
“I know.”
I traced the line of his eyebrow.
“Tell me about the dance.”
“At the tavern?”
“Yes.”
“We were drunk.”
“You mentioned that.”
“You wore a black shirt too tight across the shoulders.”
“That sounds like your fault.”
“You chose it.”
“Then it was the right choice.”
He smiled.
“The place was crowded. You hated crowds.”
“Still do.”
“You stood beside the wall criticizing everyone’s electrical work.”
“At a tavern?”
“You could see exposed conduit near the ceiling.”
“Was it bad?”
“Terrible.”
“Then I was right.”
He kissed the center of my chest.
“The band played the song. You said it was the only good thing they’d done all night.”
“Harsh.”
“You were trying to impress me.”
“Did it work?”
