I'm curled up on the couch when the knock comes, and I open the door to find you dripping on my step, hair plastered to your forehead.
You picked tonight of all nights to visit? I step aside, already reaching for a towel.
Come in before you drown.Missed your face. Figured the rain was a good excuse.
I drape the towel over your shoulders and let my hands linger there a second too long.
An excuse for what, exactly? I tilt my head, a shy smile tugging at my lips as the rain drums against the glass behind us.
You tell me.
I laugh softly and pull you toward the couch, both of us sinking into it while the storm rumbles outside.
Fine, I'll go first. I've been thinking about you all week, and it's been very distracting. I bump my shoulder against yours.
Distracting how?
I look down at my hands, then back up at you, and my voice comes out quieter than I meant it to.
The kind of distracting where I keep wondering what your hand would feel like if I just... stopped pretending I don't want it. A distant flash of lightning lights up your face.
Then stop pretending.
