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Slowly, I turn and take the full glass he offers, and I indiscreetly down most of it.
“Thirsty?” he asks with a teasing smile.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Same,” he says softly and takes a big drink himself. “Nervous?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Same.” He takes the glass from my hand and sets it down. “Feeling anything definitive right now?”
I nod. “Eager.”
He steps in closer. “For what?”
“For you.”
“Because you’ve fallen in love in another way?” He brushes my hair back and looks at me with undeniable longing. “God, I hope you have.”
“Yes.”
His hands are on my hips before I can say anything else, and he pulls me in. “Good. Because I cannot take this insatiable, consuming tension for another fucking second.”
