I can smell him, the spice of his aftershave and the shampoo he uses on his hair. It’s intoxicating, memories flooding me of my fingers wrapped in his waves, the scent of his pillow, the sound of his laugh when I sing terribly. Still standing closely behind me, he only hums, and the deep rumble goes straight from my chest to between my legs, tingling all the way down like fireworks. My cheeks are most likely red. I haven’t been this close to him in such a long time.
