Later that evening, I descended the stairs of Carol Lynne's apartment with a full stomach of empanada-style apple pie and wine.
The sound of Keith's door opening made me move faster down the stairs.
"Babe, hold up," the familiar voice called out as he said goodbye to his friend.
"Can't. I gotta get home." My words were slurred.
His footsteps moved down the stairs fast until his big body was by my side.
"Why is it you're always there every stinking time I leave," I protested.
"Been waiting for you."
What? I stopped and looked at him with my mouth open.
A smile curved his lips. The handsome bastard! On cue, like he knew what I was thinking, his smile widened. Ugh!
We pushed past the metal door and made it onto the street.
"So, did you think about it?"
My forehead wrinkled. "What?"
