That was a really bad idea.
I can feel Chris behind me. His body doesn’t need to touch mine: I know he’s close because a strange heat comes from our proximity.
When Amanda, my very exuberant and recent friend, offered me this plan, after having extorted the reason for my bad mood at the restaurant she hangs out at all the time to distract her boredom, and since her father is the owner, she can afford it: I knew it would lead me to this kind of tense situation.
She put her hands on her generous hips, a smirk on her lips:
“What matters isn’t what he wants or decides, but what you want.”
That’s how the beginning of the end began.
What do I want?
Do I want a more intimate relationship with Chris? Every day, I catch myself gazing at him. Not only his muscles drawn by a damn inspired arti
