“You lost someone,” Scott said. It made sense: the wounds, the sad smiles, and stilted conversation. Suddenly the grief he’d given Derek at the store, for no reason other than his own temper, threatened to drown him with guilt. He stepped forward, feeling an overwhelming desire to offer some kind of comfort, and without wondering if it was right or wrong, Scott drew his fingertip down Derek’s scar, following it all the way from shoulder to waist.
Derek lifted his right hand and rested his palm just above where Scott’s finger had stopped, and when Scott began to move his finger again, Derek’s hand followed Scott’s touch.
For several seconds Scott watched their hands move in tandem. It was oddly intense, and even more so when Derek breathed a long, low sigh. Scott rested his lips against D
