GRAYSON DROPPED THE STYLUS AND REACHED FOR HER, his hands sliding up her arms to grip her shoulders.
He didn't kiss her. He just held her there, his gaze searching hers with a desperation he would never admit to in the light of day.
"Because I don't want to know who I was," he rasped, his eyes turning a molten, stormy silver. "I don't want to find out that the real reason I loved you. I want to know why I want you now."
"Every time I touch you, my body recognizes you. My heart beats faster. My skin craves yours." He shook her slightly, a gesture of pure, unbridled frustration. "It's like a language I used to speak fluently, and now I'm struggling to remember the simplest words. But the feeling... the feeling is louder than the silence in my head."
Mailah reached up, her hands covering his on her shoulders. "Then don't look for the words, Grayson. Just listen to the feeling."
He let out a jagged breath, his forehead dropping to rest against hers.
