I still had my hand on his side, careful nit to press. He reached out and hooked a finger into the belt loop on my jeans. It felt so natural, so fulfilling, to be there with him. To talk with him as if we did it everyday. As if we'd been doung it every day for years. Not even the heat,of Ian's fury could penetrate the warmth I was getting from Reyes.

There's another part, an obstinate part, that wants more. That wants Dutch live and in the flesh. That wants her hand. Her mouth. Her hips under mine. It wants all of her. Every last ounce. Body and soul.

When I'm not scouring through the backstreets of every city in the state, I keep an eye on the girl. My girl.