Fall (VIP, #3)

by Kristen Callihan

Suddenly, I don’t want her to go. I want her to listen to me play my guitar. I want to cook her dinner and show off the fact that I actually know what I’m doing in the kitchen. And I want to hear what new outrageous thing will come out of her mouth. The need for her companionship is so foreign to me that I’m a little dizzy.

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I am so aware of this woman, it isn’t funny. And smitten. Ridiculously smitten. It’s worse, now that I know her taste, how she feels against my mouth, under my hands. She’s my new favorite song; I want to play her over and over.

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