‘ANY REQUESTS?’ HE ASKED as he continued to softly strum his guitar.
She shook her head.
‘No.’
But she struggled to keep the tears pooling in her eyes. She turned away and asked, ‘Wine?’
‘Yup.’
She poured him a glass, slowly, trying to buy time to settle her nerves, not to mention the overwhelming desire to throw caution to the wind.
There he is, and there’s the bed! And it’s the 21st century.
Her brain kept heading in the direction she didn’t want.
What would it be like to make love with him?
She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. Perhaps it would be best not to be friends, because who was she fooling? She couldn’t even fool herself, let alone him.
He’s probably laughing at me, acting all stupid.
She stopped pouring when the flute was about to overflow. She tipped a litt
