Nathan kept trying to reassure him. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Not to you. You can forget it, if you’d rather.”
Matt listened to Nathan’s heartbeat, fast and light like a deer flashing through sunshine and shadow. “Listen, Nathan…”
Nathan was silent, but Matt could feel the immediate tension down his spine.
“I loved Rachel with all my heart. You’re right, nothing changes that. But—I never wanted her the way I want you.”
Nathan slid out from under him, rolled over. His face was different, grave but sort of lit from within in a way that gave Matt a funny pain in his chest.
He wouldn’t spend another standing in the darkness, hot and sick and shaking inside with a confused mess of feelings that weren’t worth analyzing. That he shouldn’t have felt anyway.
With Rachel gone it was like balancing on the edge of a cliff—and all the little wildflowers, the netting of grass and roots that kept the cliff from sliding into the sea below, were gone. It was just Matt standing there looking down, waiting to fall.
Even Rachel’s memory, the sweet recollection of all they had built, all they had shared, was no longer strong enough to fight gravity. From the moment he had looked across the wet grass and seen Nathan Doyle standing in the shadow of a stone saber-toothed tiger, something had changed inside him. Something battened down had torn free, like a sail taking its first deep breath of sea air.
It terrified him.
And at the same time it exhilarated him.
Which terrified him all the more.
You think I'm with you out of guilt?"
"No, you ass. Of course not. I just mean—"
"You're a nut, MacAllister. I'm with you because I love you."
There it was, out. Three little words. Three of the most common words in the world, but string them together and they were more powerful than any warrant, any extradition papers, or even treaty. Stronger than any magical spell. Had he really never said them aloud to Taylor?
Stichwörter: will taylor old-poison
Do you still do the clubs?”
Jake shakes his head. “You do the clubs
because you can’t find what you need at home. I’ve got everything I need. I’ve got the answer to needs I didn’t even know I had.
Snowden said carefully, 'I've been unable to get in touch with the person I thought might know about our mutual friend's difficulty.'
The guy sounded like he worked for the CIA. Or Charles Dickens.
A Pause followed my greeting.
Then, 'We're watching you,' whispered the voice on the other end.
'Yeah? Did you see what I did with my keys?
Well, well," he said. "This can't be a coincidence."
"It could," I said. "The odds aren't high, but they do exist."
"Uh-huh.
We were locked onto each other as though we had just discovered this incredible thing you could do with two mouths pressing close and moist against each other. And the taste of him... Horrifyingly, unbearably sweet -- sweet in the way crack must feel hitting the bloodstream of an addict after years of staying clean.
Josh LanyonYou got a little bit of an attitude, Mr. English, if you don't mind my saying so.
I don't mind.
I felt the warm brush of his fingers pushing the key into mine all the way to my heart. I focused on the key because if I looked up, I'd see what he was feeling. Worse, he'd see what I was
feeling -- in a minute what I was feeling was going to be spilling out of me, and it didn't make any sense. It had been over long ago; we had just finally got around to saying good-bye, that was all.
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