True to his promise, at the end of the day, Brad was standing by Melanie’s parking spot. He flicked his ciggarrete onto the ground and smashed it with his black boot before looking at Melanie expectantly. Melanie couldn’t help but purse her lips and look at Brad sternly.
“You won’t be smoking in my car,” she warned, wagging a finger in front of him. Brad thought she looked kind of cute trying to boss him around. “It’s a nasty habit. You shouldn’t be indulging in it in the first place.”
For a wild moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d taste like smoke if she kissed him. Maybe it'd help her push away the drugging memory of his honeyed kisses. Maybe she’d stop having wild dreams about him at night. Did she even want to stop having them?
As Melanie started the car, she couldn't st
