Butterflies dance in my stomach at the thought of coming face to face with him after practically climbing him last night. He was the perfect gentleman, never taking more than I was willing to give. But there’s this part of me that wishes he had. Then I wouldn’t be kicking myself for not telling him to kiss me again. Because I just know that having Rhett Eaton kiss me for real, not because my ex is watching, would be different. Good different.
