I don’t know how it happens. I don’t know who moves first. If questioned, I would deny any involvement, but maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s both of us, drawn together like magnets, an inevitable pull I can’t resist no matter how hard I fucking try. One minute, we’re six feet apart. The next I’m pressed against his door. His hand is tangled in my hair and his mouth is on mine. He’s kissing me like a man starved, and I’m not doing a goddamn thing to stop him.