12
After all the days of slow buildup, the drive to Dwight’s apartment seemed to take forever. They burst through the door, tangled up together, hands all over each other.
“Nice place,” Maggie gasped, gazing around the nearly bare apartment.
“It has a bed. That’s all I need right now.” He closed the door and turned so they faced each other. Cupping her face so he could look deep into her eyes, he brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “I think I might be falling in love with you, Maggie. I always wondered what that would feel like. I think this is it. I just wanted you to know that before we go any further. And don’t say anything back. You take your own time figuring out how you feel. This is me, what I got to say.”
Those kind dark eyes held so much tenderness, so much consideration.
