The entire way to the restaurant I couldn’t help but constantly glance over at her. In that dress, it was like we were picking right back up, like the last six weeks hadn’t even passed.
Six weeks that I pined for her thinking she’d blown me off, but it was my own stupidity. I thanked that little voice that told me not to delete the contact, because that was my only saving grace. That evidence took her from standoffish to melting in my arms.
And now she was sitting in my car in that motherfucking dress. The one I’d clumsily spilled her drink on, then promptly shoved my hand down.
It was possibly the most idiotic move I’d ever made, but also the best.
Still, that dress did things to me. It represented weeks of fantasies, and was a reminder of how I had felt that night. How much I loved t
