Two fingers of scotch deep, I'm wide awake, zeroing in on the soft pitter-patter of hesitation by my bedroom door. The steps go away and come back again.
I toss the blankets away from me.
She lingers in front of the door without making another move for what feels like an eternity until I can't take it any longer. Wrenching open the door, I find her there, fiddling with the strap of her jersey dress. It drapes softly over her curves, as flattering as any ballgown.
"Hey," she says awkwardly.
"Hey yourself," I reply, unable to contain my smile.
Her eyes take a round trip from my boxers back up to my face, and my c**k twinges at the attention.
"I didn't get back to you before." She shivers despite the warm evening.
"Back to me about what?" I play along.
"When you asked how your… scenar
