He was so close to us that not touching took effort, so close it was as if a sigh would have pressed the line of his body against mine. Nope, I said, it doesn't. There was a handful of women near the steps leading up to a door with a bright light over it. I managed to whisper-almost hiss-his name, Nathaniel.
I don't know how I knew that he wasn't just busy getting real cream out of the fridge to pour into an honest-to-God cream pitcher. He stopped me with a raised hand. It wasn't that I chose to ignore it. It was almost as if he was afraid he'd fall.
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