The bedclothes are tangled. So are limbs. Since last night Jenny wrapped herself around Kyle to sleep, holding him as close as possible, and as usual she has been sleeping the sleep of the dead. He doesn't know that she doesn't sleep that soundly when he's not around, most especially in the past few weeks. Her lips are curved into a gentle smile, ( Read more... )

But, sitting in her room at her father's posh Central Park West penthouse, Jenny-Lynn hits #1 on her speed dial.

Kyle Rayner's cellphone rings. Caller ID indicates The Brownstone, meaning JSA Headquarters.

Men. I really could do without them sometimes, you know? I've dated my share of guys, I suppose, but there's the one, there's always THAT one, that gets under your skin. The one you can't shake ( Read more... )