"need anything, wolf scout?"
yeah.
it takes me a second. but i turn my head.
farrow sits partially on the couch's armrest. his gaze sweeps me, assessing me, and when they lift to mine, they practically hold me, protect me, love me.
and i say, "you." my voice cracks.
"where'd you go?"
"neverland," i quip.
he rolls his eyes, but his knowing gaze drips down all six-foot-two of my build. "next time," he says, "take me with you."
you were already there.