Close Enough To Sin
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered. “Like what?” he murmured, his drunken gaze fixed on hers. “Like you have no idea what you do to me.” She should have walked away. Instead, she cupped his face and stole a kiss, pouring years of unspoken feelings into one reckless moment. When she pulled away, he caught her hand. “Don’t go.” Her heart twisted. “I love you. God, I’m so in love with you.” He stared at her through his drunken haze, his fingers tightening around hers. Then he whispered, almost shyly, “Can we kiss one more time?”
