“Because after dinner, I’d take your hand to help you up. And even though I’m trying to be good, even though I know better—” my fingers slide around the back of her neck, weaving into her dark curls, “—something happens when we touch.” “What?” she asks, breathless and beautiful. “You look at me like you are right now.” I bow my head toward hers. “And all the good intentions in the world aren’t enough to stop me.”
