““Heavy leather and clinks of steel toes thunder toward me. Toombs plows into me like a bullet and tangles his arms around my waist, catching some of my hair in his splayed fingers. His lips crash into mine and swindle the oxygen right out of my lungs. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Toombs is kissing me. I’m dizzy, drunk from his touch. His lips are softer than I imagined. Gentle. Giving. Tender. And Jesus, up close he smells divine—a combination of the cinnamon gum he chews and the bottle of cheap body wash I’ve sniffed in the shower a dozen times. On him, it’s heaven.””
