Free Under Attack by Hannah Jayne

cut-grass scent comforted me and I tried to remind myself that it was the safety of a trusted friend that was warming my heart; that the slow, delicious churning in my stomach had nothing to do with the way his body molded so perfectly against my curves. I stiffened immediately when I felt the hard coldness of Nina pressing up against me, her arms splayed in group-hug format, her head resting on my shoulder. “This moment is just so beautiful,” she murmured.
    I broke away from our threesome and stared at Nina.
    â€œYou know, I think I am going to take this warm, fuzzy feeling outside.” She grabbed her purse and disappeared out the door, leaving Alex and I alone together in the silent apartment. We were still in a loose hug. I flushed and Alex straightened, then smiled. He pulled me close.
    â€œThis feels good,” he murmured.
    I wanted to resist, but his arms around me were like warm chocolate. “It does,” I said finally.
    â€œLook, Lawson, I—” Alex looked down at me and his cobalt eyes were deep, and soft. He licked his lips. “I just couldn’t take it if anything ever happened to you.”
    I smiled. “I think I’ve proven I’m pretty resilient.”
    Alex’s lips pushed up into his trademark half-smile and my stomach fluttered. He brushed my bangs from my forehead. “That, you have.” Alex leaned close to me, his soft curls lolling over his forehead. I drank in his warm scent and rolled up on my toes as his arms tightened around my waist, his lips brushed against mine, and then he was kissing me.
    My head spun in delicious chaos as Alex’s palms caressed my back and he kissed and nibbled my lips, my ears, my neck. My heart thumped and I started to lose my breath and Alex broke away, raking a hand through his hair. His curls resettled in that perfectly tousled way.
    â€œI should go,” he said quickly.
    I looked at him, deflated, rejected. “Oh. Okay.”
    He took my hand, squeezed it softly. His eyes were warm, sad. “I’m sorry, I just—I need to go.”
    I hugged my arms to my chest, forced a smile. “Hey, no problem. Thanks for the information. I should go to bed now anyway.”
    â€œThat’s a good idea. We can take this up tomorrow.” Alex strode to the dining room table, began unzipping his backpack and stacking the books to go inside.
    â€œAlex,” I started, once his back was to me. “What’s it like?”
    He turned slowly. “What’s what like?”
    I studied the carpet. “Heaven.”
    The slow smile of memory spread across his lips, but his eyes were far away. “I can’t describe it.”
    I sat down at the table and Alex followed suit. “Why?” I asked. “Are you not allowed or something?”
    Alex slowly wagged his head from side to side and then looked at me. “There are no words.”
    â€œDo you miss it?” I asked, my voice sounding small. “So you miss Heaven?”
    Alex slid the leftover Chinese food boxes closer to him and plucked out a fortune cookie. He broke it, popped a piece in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. “Of course. It’s home. It’s all I’ve known for”—he shrugged, swallowed—“forever.”
    â€œOh.” I picked at a glob of solid grease on the dining-room table. “Is there anything you like about being here?”
    One corner of Alex’s mouth turned up into a wry grin. “I like you.”
    I blushed, went back to studying my table. “Thanks.”
    â€œAnd the food.” Alex pushed the last bit of fortune cookie into his mouth. “I absolutely love the food. We didn’t have Chinese takeout like this when I was there last.”
    I crumpled up a napkin and threw it across the table at him. He started sliding the books into his pack again until I put my hand flat on the table, pinning a single volume under my palm. “I’m keeping