Larry
I make my way to the kitchen and put the kettle back on the gas. Behind me, I hear footsteps and know that it's Tiffany. I don't turn to look at her for fear that if I do, she'll realize I've been holding my breath.
There's no denying the physical tension in the room when we are together and of course, the connection we both feel toward each other is so intense that sometimes it makes it hard for me to breathe. But this morning, when I told her about the marriage proposal, I'd been too afraid of her answer.
I still am.
"Hi, Larry," Tiffany calls from behind me.
I look over my shoulders to catch her pinched expression. She bites down hard against her lower lips, her eyes nearly unreadable but all I can think about is kissing her and how she usually feels in my arms. I shake my h
