What's next?

Smith's Sense

Smith buried his head in Julie's chest, a place he always shunned, but now it felt like the whole world was concentrated in this small, warm spot on Julie's body.

**The heat from Julie's body** was like a living, soft fire;

A deep, heavy heat emanated from her **muscular thighs** that boiled beneath Smith's hips; Julie's warm skin pressed against Smith's skin beneath her absorbent jeans like a freshly baked iron plate. Every time Julie breathed, **her chest rose and fell**, the loose gray hoodie slipping slightly with each movement, and the heat beneath her wafted up to Smith's face like fresh steam from a cup of tea.

**The smell of Julie** was everywhere;

The sharp, fresh scent of **Ocean Breeze**, with notes of lemon and sea salt, mixed with **the light sweat of a drive**; a thin layer of saltiness, like the smell of the afternoon beach. Beneath it, **the smell of the morning's chocolate donut** still lingered on the skin of his neck; sweet, warm, a little sticky. And deep down, the smell of **Julie's skin**; warm, alive, a little sharp, like the smell of fresh bread just out of the oven.

**Julie's** fingers moved slowly along Smith's waist, under his hoodie;

Her fingertips were a little rough, from yoga, but her touch was soft and steady; like a wave of the ocean, coming, going, coming again. Every time her fingers passed over Smith's spine, a **tiny shiver** went through him; no tickle, no pressure, just **a warm, reassuring presence**. It was as if Julie was saying with every caress, *"Here, safe, mine."*

**Julie's heartbeat** pounded beneath Smith's ear;

Fast, strong, regular – **dum… dum… dum…**

Like the drumbeat around a campfire at night in the Montana woods. Every time Julie laughed, the beat quickened a moment, and Smith felt the tiny tremor in his chest.

**Julie's breath** was on Smith's hair;

Warm, humid, with the smell of coffee and cinnamon from Angela's cake. Each exhale moved a strand of hair, like a breeze through pine leaves.

Smith closed his eyes.

The sound of Sarah's laughter, the click of Lucy's camera, the sound of Angela's cup on the table – it was all distant, like sounds underwater.

There was only **heat**;

The warmth of Julie's thigh beneath him,

The warmth of Julie's hand on his waist,

The warmth of Julie's breath on his hair,

The warmth of Julie's heartbeat under his ear.

And in that moment,

**the hug he had always hated**,

became **the only place he ever wanted to leave**;