My mind swirled.
Your voice was deep.
I was lost in your eyes and I couldn’t bring myself to look away. You tilted your head, eyebrows shot up, you were waiting for something. What was it? A gentle smile spread across your lips. I swooned.
“Can I?”
Oh God. I forgot.
Something went wrong with my throat and my voice was a pitch higher when I said, “Sure.”
That was embarrassing but you didn’t notice and sat in front of me, unperturbed. Your perfume infiltrated my nostrils, I could feel a shiver down my spine. I was used to keeping a comfortable distance from you. But here you were, you just had to sit right in front of me, on the same table, and I had to pretend that it didn’t bother me at all.
It did bother me—at all.
My legs were sleeping. I couldn’t even move them, fearing that I might touch yours. Leaning my head on my hand, I pretended to read my report. But I understood none of it because all I was thinking of was how nervous and enthralled I was to feel your presence a little closer this time.
It was different.
It was nerve-wracking.
It was excitingly terrifying.
YOU ARE READING
The Fifth Date
RomanceHer Solitude. His Company. Her Silence. His Words. Her Americano. His Caramel Macchiato. Their Date. Their Fifth Date. -TheGreatDutchess #goodluckgeorgia
