" And then, shrugging, she mused, “I was just thinking about us.” She leaned her cheek against her hand as it clutched the chain.
Jay nudged his swing sideways, so it nearly brushed Violet’s. “What about us?”
“I was just thinking how cute we must have been, when we were their age.” She glanced toward the kids, who were racing up the ladder again.
His arm snaked out, capturing her before the momentum of his swing could drag him away again. When the swing did pull, they both moved in that direction. “We’re still cute,” he said, but his voice was low and filled with unspoken longing.
She lifted her chin, their faces just inches apart now, and Jay’s grip around her waist kept them together. “Yeah?” she breathed. “You think so?”
His other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, covering her bruise . . . not concealing it but cradling it. His thumb shifted, stroking the tender path of skin. “I do, Vi. I think we’re perfect. "

― Kimberly Derting , The Last Echo (The Body Finder, #3)