Alexandre's voice resonates in the air, just around the corner. He's not alone.
The indistinct sound of another man's voice alternates with Alexandre's, making me wonder if he's talking to Mike Mathis.
My stomach muscles contract and my tummy somersaults. Nervous butterflies flutter around in the pit of my belly. I can't help but wonder how our interaction will be this morning after last night's full-blown intimacy.
Will things be awkward? God, I hope not.
As I walk into the kitchen, the scent of coffee wafts the surrounding air.
Natural light floods the room, making me squint. My eyes are drawn upward to the skylights mounted in the ceiling above the main kitchen area. It offers a rather a sharp contrast to the dark hallway and living room I just left.
The conversation dies down, an
