I had to get up, to move around. I slid away from Garth on the bed, moving slowly to keep from waking him. By the time I stood, I was shaking.

One day, maybe tomorrow, maybe in sixty years, Garth would die. And because he was human, his soul would dissipate, its energy dividing up and floating away. If I let myself get any closer to him . . . if I let myself care any more . . .

I passed through the doorway into the living room and crossed to stand before one of the windows and stare out at my city. I would do what I could to make this a safe place for people like Garth so they could hang onto whatever short amount of time they had left. So they could exist for as long as possible. So the people who love them wouldn’t have to say goodbye until the last possible moment.

A chill rippled through me, and I turned and grabbed the fleece blanket bunched up in the corner of the sectional, wrapping it around my bare shoulders. It smelled like him, faintly, of his cologne and that underlying scent that was his alone. I hugged the corners of the blanket to me. Hugged myself. Held myself together.

I heard the sheets rustle in the other room, then the mattress creaked. Light footsteps marked Garth’s progress from the bed to the doorway. “Kat? What are you doing out here?”

“Just thinking.”

I listened to him cross the living room, making his way to me. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” My shoulders slumped. “No.” I laughed quietly. Bitterly. “I honestly don’t know.”

He stopped behind me, a foot or two by the sound of it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, letting out another quiet, humorless laugh. “I want to stop thinking about it altogether.”

Garth made a rough noise, faint and low in his throat. “Maybe I can help with that.” He pulled on the edge of the blanket at the back of my neck and I loosened my grip on it, letting it slip through my fingers and fall to the floor.

My brain was telling me to stop this, warning me that this would only make things worse when the inevitable happened. And it would happen. But my heart and libido had a mind of their own, and they took over.

Garth’s fingers trailed down my spine, from the base of my skull to my tailbone, and I shivered, both tickled and aroused. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice low and husky. He laid his hands over my ribcage, sliding them around my body until the “L” of his thumbs hugged my breasts. “So confident . . .” He stepped closer and moved his hands higher. I could feel the heat of him just inches behind me. “So strong . . .”

I leaned against him, resting the back of my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes.