She hit my palm with a pretty sharp jab. “I feel like a superhero, especially with all of the lightning going on in the background.” Her next punch was a decent cross. I pulled my hand away, shook it out. Blew on it.

Tabitha’s answering laugh made my stomach flip. I reluctantly tore my attention away, settling it on the famous view in front of us—softly lit statues, the other museums, the international flags, the whole of Center City lit up. Lightning struck in the distance. The air buzzed with it.

“As kids, we must have come here on field trips, what, a dozen times at least?” she said, sounding dreamy. “And my sister and I would go once a month, maybe more. It used to be my favorite place in the whole world. This view has never gotten old. It always feels like Philly is the center of the whole universe when you’re up here.”

I lowered myself to the top step and propped my elbows on my knees. The stone sent a handful of pain signals up my spine, reminding me of past body blows. Tabitha joined me a second later, sitting close. Her knee pressed to mine. Our arms touched. I snuck a glance at her profile, her hair blowing gently around her face.

I knew her parents’ divorce had been complicated and devastating for her. Knew, from our support group, that her mother had dismissed Tabitha’s bisexuality and never accepted her. Except watching her behind the camera yesterday felt like watching Tabitha rediscover a love she’d lost. I wanted to know why she had to leave.

Why she never allowed herself to stay.

She turned to face me, eyes searching mine. A tentative smile appeared on her face. Those old boxer’s instincts told me to press here. That my opponent was wide open for a reason.

“So, uh…last night at your family dinner,” she said. “Were my awkward flirting attempts with you the hottest gossip?”

“More like my awkward attempts.”

Her lips parted. “You’ve been flirting with me too?”

She was teasing, seemed almost nervous. I kept my expression serious. “You know I’ve been, Tabitha.”

Her throat worked, eyelashes fluttering. The wind caught her hair again. I reached forward and tucked the strands behind her ear. Cupped her face and swept my thumb across her cheek. The world ground to a screeching halt. It was as if the gong had gone off again—there was no sound, no movement, no storm clouds overhead.

“I’ve been strict about a lot of things since I retired,” I said, voice raspy. “It’s not only my diet. Or training. I haven’t allowed myself to give in to anything that I want. To take what I want.”

She swallowed again. Her skin was trembling beneath my fingers. I slowly, slowly dipped my lips until they hung suspended over hers. Our breath mingled. My vision flickered, every muscle taut.