“I can’t persuade Klipp to eat her crusts.” I complain late one night over a glass of red.
“Why should she?”
“Aren’t they good for you?”
“It’s the same dough as the rest of the loaf just cooked more. It has no greater nutritional value.”
I slide off the sofa for various reasons.

I shiver, my skin breaking out into tiny goosebumps.
“Are you cold?” He whispers, his lips brushing my ear, making the fine hairs ripple.
“A little.” I grin, pressing against his thigh.
He runs a hand down the curve of my spine... “You should put a jumper on.”