“Want to get that light?” I say. “No,” he says and steps right behind me. “Oh,” I say, turning around. He moves a loose tendril of hair from my eyes and rests his hand on the side of my neck. I can’t remember his having touched me before, and from the tingly heat spreading through my body, I think I would have remembered. I cannot look him in the eye, but I can feel him studying me in the dark. He leans in, and his face is so close that our noses brush against each other. His breath is on my lips. The space between us is electric with want, mostly mine probably, and I’m afraid to meet his eyes
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