I’m thinking about her, about us, about this. About this tiny café across from her house and all the places we almost met. About the right time, the right place, the right moment. I’m thinking about the way her hand fits in mine, and the way my heart drums out a beat that matches her name. Lu-cie. Lu-cie. Lu-cie. The almosts and the maybes and the what-ifs. The universe lining up for one perfect moment and handing me her. I got so fucking lucky. I drag her mouth to mine and press a hard kiss against her lips. “I’m thinking about you.”
