Cory's POV

Ripley.

Ripley.

Ripley.

Her name was like a breath of fresh air. Kissing her was like a sip of fresh, cool water across chapped, parched lips.

Ripley.

Savior.

Martyr.

His chest ached for wanting her. Grant and Austin had nearly had to tie him to a chair to keep him from pacing holes in the floor while she was gone.

Cory inspected his reflection in the mirror. He studied his blue eyes, blue like the night sky. He ran a comb ...