I was drunk, delirious, and out of control with lust. “Do you want to touch me?” “Yes.” The word burst from his lips with no hesitation, but then he looked stricken. “No. I shouldn’t.” A sobering thought hit me like cold water. “You have a girlfriend.” “What?” He froze. “No, no.” He let out a tight, embarrassed sigh. “If I touch you, shit’s going to . . . escalate.” Relief washed through and disarmed me. His phrasing was almost amusing. “Escalate?”
