Chapter 2Colby waited two entire days before asking what was on Jason’s mind. He would’ve asked sooner, but he still felt a bit shaky. Better—far better, vastly so, mountains of better—but regaining balance. The shuddery aftermath of a near-miss car crash. The ebbing of a bruise, purple to yellow-brown. The knitting of bone back together, to borrow Jason’s metaphor. He was all right, he thought. Or he would be. He got out flour, oats, cranberries, sesame seeds; he found yeast and milk and butter, and a bowl or two. Incoming sunshine striped the pale granite of the countertops, gold against grey, next to his hands. Jason hadn’t been subtle. No s*x—nothing even vaguely along those lines—these last two days, though there’d been lots of cuddling and attentive kisses. Glancing at Colby, glan