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Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

He tightens his grip on the back of my neck. His fingers are cold. My fingers are cold, too, in his wet hair. I bring my other hand up to his throat; it’s cool. There’s no warm place on him. If I dip my tongue into his mouth, it’ll be cold there, too. If I want Baz warm, I have to do it myself.

I’ll do it myself.

I kiss him, and he hums again.

I kiss his mouth open. Cool, cool.

“Mmm,” he mmms.

I can still see him, even when I can’t, even with my eyes closed—I know his face too well.

Is this what people do? Get as close as they can and then push closer? Burn each other’s faces into their eyelids? Let each other into every gap? And then what? Then just tomorrow, and more?

I want something.

I don’t know what I want.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to take.

“Snow…” Baz’s voice is soft.

I kiss him. I kiss him.

“Simon … just kiss me for now.”

“All right. I am.” I kiss him.

“Just kiss me for the sake of kissing me.”

I kiss him. “Baz…”

“Mmm.”

“I want my sheets to smell like you.”

“I smell like you, Snow. I used your soap.”

Between kisses: “You smell like a cave.”

“That’s romantic.”

“You smell like a hidden waterfall.”

“Better…”

“I can’t get enough of you,” I kiss.

“Just kiss me. Please…”

I kiss him. I push my chest into his. I knot my fingers in his hair—

“No,” he whispers.

I pull my mouth away. “No?”

Baz rubs his nose into my cheek. His voice is barely there. “Be gentle with me … Even though you don’t have to.”

“I—” My hand goes slack in his hair. “Gentle?”

“Please, Snow.”

I let some air between us. “Don’t say ‘please,’ Baz.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t have to,” I say. “You don’t have to, I’ll give you whatever you want.” I stroke his Adam’s apple with my thumb. I slowly move my other hand back through his hair. “Was I hurting you?”

“No…”

“You want me to be gentle?”

He nods his head.

“All the time?”

“Now.”

I nod my head. I kiss him. Gentle. Gentle. For the sake of it. He smells so good. Like rushing water. Like something underground. (I found a hidden waterfall once. There was a key there. I took it.)

Baz holds the back of my neck. He presses his other hand between my wings and drags his fingertips down my spine. I kiss him. I kiss him. Like I’m lapping up water from a stream. Is this what people do? I’m gentle, I’m so gentle.