The gesture of his hand told her more than anything he could say, "Neither do I." She didn't know where she had been, and right now? Helen could care less, instead the focus was on him, pushing his boundaries further, trying to slip as close as possible.
"I feel like Troy was yesterday, and nothing matters but that." Give in, give in, give in- her delicate hands settled on him. One over his chest, one on the waistband of his jeans. This so close to something she wanted. Tilting her head, she placed a kiss on the palm of his hand.
And touching him was another exercise in remembering (relearning?) Helen just felt giddy, intoxicated in the feel of this moment.