The only thing in this room is a Post-it note on the far wall. “It’ll only ever be you.” It’s written in Nate’s chicken scratch handwriting and I pull the paper off the wall, turning back towards him as he stands in the doorway. Leaning against the frame, dark blue Henley with the sleeves pulled up and denim jeans, he smiles at me. His blue eyes are on fire tonight as I stare across the room at him. When Nate pulls himself away from the door, he meets me in the center of the room.
