Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

He doesn’t turn around. He simply turns his head to the
side, listening.
“I…I…”
Oh, fuck it. I run up to him, grab the front of his jacket,
stand on my toes, and kiss him on his cheek. My words come
out in a breathless rush.
“Thank you.”
After a beat, he says gruffly, “For what?”
“For making me feel something. It’s been a long time since
someone did. I wasn’t sure I could anymore.”
He stares down at me, dark eyes burning. He cups my face
in his big hand and gently sweeps his thumb over my
cheekbone. He inhales slowly, his chest rising. His brows pull
together until he’s wearing an expression like he’s in physical
pain.
Then he exhales, drops his hand from my face, and walks
away toward his house without another word. He slams the
front door behind him.
Five seconds later, I hear the steady whump whump whump
of his fists hitting the punching bag coming from inside.