I rummage my bedroom over a pair of matched underwear with black polka dots and a meaningless bow on my bra. Tonight is the night. I am about to give up what I always have. Then it hit me: I can never have it back.
That night, he looked me in the eyes; all sexy and serious. He removed my remaining strands of hair in front of my face and tucked it behind my ears. He grinned and said I was blushing and I looked cute. I think I blushed even more. My fingers came to a halt when I finally realize I was wounding my dress. He noticed it.
He pulled my hands toward his mouth and kissed my fingers. Then he kissed my forehead. "It doesn't matter." He said. "I can wait if you're not ready for it."
And I was sure my gut twisted like mad.
