QUOTE : I’m glad you still have your survival instinct.”<br /><br />“We’ve all got something.” I lift my fingertips to the exposed skin on my face. It’s colder than the night sea. Cupping my hands, I blow into them, let my breath warm my nose and cheeks. “I apparently still have a face, which is good.”<br /><br />Holden vaults up onto the wooden platform and I step up after him. “That is good,” he says, pulling me in close. He lifts his gloved hands to my cheeks. “After all, this is one of my favorite faces.”<br /><br />I scrunch my lips into a pretend pout. “One of?”<br /><br />He grins. “Well, you know. I’m a sucker for the classics. Helen of Troy, the Mona Lisa, that—”<br /><br />“Hey. The Mona Lisa isn’t even hot.” I give him a little shove away from me, toward the edge of the platform.<br /><br />“Disagree,” Holden says. “She’s beautiful in her own way. That mischievous smile, those dark, soulful eyes, the way she—”<br /><br />“Fine, whatever.” I cross my arms. “But I insist on being ranked above her.”<br /><br />“Okay, okay,” Holden says. “Yours can be my second-favorite face . . . right after that guy from The Scream.” He pulls me in close again.<br /><br />“You’re such an ass,” I say, as our lips touch.<br /><br />Holden laughs. “My girl Mona Lisa would never be so rude.