Marsh and I spent most of the morning alternately ignoring one another. After the incident the previous night, what I’d deemed the “almost” kiss, I didn’t know how to face him.
After spending a good portion of the morning closed up in my room, I was at my breaking point. I needed to grab a change of clothes, and my stomach was loudly declaring a need of its own. Opening the door slowly, I peeked out into the hallway.
No sign of Marsh, and his door was closed.
I tiptoed past his door and made a beeline for the kitchen, desperate for coffee.
I was so ready for that sweet, dark nectar that it took me a moment to realize I wasn’t imagining the heady scent wafting toward me.
Marsh turned as I stepped into the kitchen and stopped short. His smile was warm and inviting, “She wakes,” he said
