WET INVITATION
ALEXANDER
The kitchen was quiet, the way it only was on early mornings when the world hadn't fully woken up. I stood at the counter, the espresso machine humming, a cup warming in my hands. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the dust motes floating in the air.
I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, doing nothing but breathing. Yeah… I wasn't on my phone and responding to emails. Just the silence and the smell of coffee and the distant sound of waves.
I was still engrossed in the silence, sipping my coffee, when I head light and hesitant footsteps coming down the hallway. I knew it was Isabella without seeing her face. The rhythm of her wall, the soft lad of bare feet on marble, I've memorised it.
She appeared in the doorway, still in her night clothes—sho
