Piper is entirely made up of aching limbs and tired bones, the stress digging its way onto her face in the form of wrinkles and lines and spots. On Fridays – late, late, on Fridays – when she’s finally left the diner after a double shift, all she wants to do is crumble into the sheets.
But when she finally crawls between the blankets, still smelling like fried fish and day-old grease, she is greeted by a hand on her leg.
It traces the curve of her knee, stopping to affectionately squeeze her thigh. Then comes an arm, sliding around her waist, pulling her close. Kevin doesn’t seem to care about the odor, pressing his nose into her hair, and then against her sticky forehead, then her cheek.
She gives him a quick peck, resting her head on his shoulder, melting into his embrace. “I hate my job,” she mutters into his shirt.
“I know.”
“I hate my life”
“I know.”
“Make it all go away.”
Tears prick his shoulder, and, god, he wants to. He wants to. He traces her lips with kisses, a little too sleepy to be passionate. “I will, baby. I promise. I will.”
YOU ARE READING
Osculation
Romance"As far as I can tell, there are two basic (kissing) rules: 1. Don't bite anything without permission. 2. The human tongue is like wasabi: it's very powerful, and should be used sparingly." In which Anna writes about a lot of people kissing.
