I don’t see David until it is literally time to walk out of the front door the next morning. Even when I do see him, I have no idea what to say to him.
David and I kissed.
Like… we kissed.
It is everything I wanted, and yet, the reminder of my evening activities just had to ruin it. I dreamt about the kiss, dreamt about it morphing into David and me at the club, dreamt about what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped it at just a kiss.
The drive to the office is dead silent.
I’m keeping my gaze on my hands in my lap, and David is staring out the window, his elbow on the door, his hand over his mouth.
I debate saying something. Anything. But every time I think of something to say, it seems ridiculous, so I keep my mouth shut.
Letting myself out of the car once it arrives at the bui
