Later that night, Jet and I danced to a slow song that played softly on the stereo in the common room. All the guests had retired and the front door was locked. Bambi slept in a corner near the kitchen door and I only had eyes for Jet.
“Why do you feel so perfect in my arms?” I asked, stroking his smooth cheek with a finger.
“Because we’re meant to be together. When you opened that door on your first night here, I knew. You were tired and disheveled and I thought you were the best thing I’d ever seen. I hope you come back to me.” I heard the catch in his voice and pulled him closer, resting my head on his broad shoulder.
“I hope so, too.”
We danced song after song, letting our desire build until I led him up to my room and locked the door behind us. “Make a memory with me, Jet. Help me
