I knock on her door. “What is it? I’m in bed,” she shouts. “It’s me. Can I come in?” The answering silence is almost too long for me to handle before she finally answers. “Sure.” Walking inside, I close the door behind me. She’s lying on the bed, still dressed in her clothes from earlier. Still smelling of me. “What is it, Max?” she asks, sighing. “You don’t think we need to talk about earlier?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you said all you had to say.” “I barely said anything, baby girl.” I lie beside her on the bed and can hardly resist the temptation to run my hand over the
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