Lily woke the next morning with a racing mind. The kiss with James was all she could think about. She'd crossed a line she wasn't sure how to retreat from. As she made her way to the café where she often wrote, her phone buzzed.
James:
Still thinking about last night?
Her cheeks flushed. She started to type a reply, then stopped herself. Letting him know how much he'd gotten under her skin felt dangerous. Instead, she slipped her phone into her bag and focused on her laptop.
But James wasn't one to be ignored. Less than an hour later, his tall frame appeared in the café doorway. He didn't seem surprised to see her—like he'd known exactly where she'd be.
"Working hard, I see," he said, sliding into the seat across from her.
Lily glared at him, but her resolve wavered when he smiled. "Did you follow me here?"
"Maybe." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. I needed to see if it was the same for you."
Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to deny it, to keep the upper hand, but the truth burned in her chest.
"I don't know what to do with this," she admitted, her voice barely audible over the hum of the café.
"Let me show you," he murmured, his hand reaching across the table to graze hers.
The world around them seemed to disappear. For the first time in years, Lily felt like she wasn't alone in her whirlwind of thoughts and desires.