Nate’s walking toward me and, if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was just the two of us in the hall. It kinda feels that way when he steps in front of me. He doesn’t speak. Neither do I. His eyes roam my face; mine stay trained on his. When his hand comes up, pushing my hair behind my ear, we sigh in unison, like we were both waiting for this - the innocent touch of his skin against mine. His hand glides down my body, until he can catch my fingers with his, his touch never once leaving my skin. Raising my hand to his mouth, he skims his lips across my knuckles. It’s light but speaks volumes.
...more
