A Little More Personal

I sighed and took a sip of the coffee I'd made. My parents had left for work earlier that morning; I rubbed my hand over my eyes and thought back to the night before.

"Would you be mad at me if I kissed you?"

Gentle pressure on my lips, soft hair between my fingers, warm skin under my hands. The bed moulded around our bodies. He'd pulled away after a few moments. I had been confused.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just . . . I've never kissed anyone like that before."

"What a coincidence. Me, neither."

He had smiled, a sweet smile; and kissed me again.

I felt two arms around my waist, and a small grin played upon my lips.

"Morning, Reece."

"Morning."

"Do people know to not call me at eight in the morning?"

"Is someone grumpy today?" I muttered as he answered the ringing cell phone.

"Hello . . . I'm kinda---what? . . . No . . . No, no, no . . . Alright . . . Fine . . . Bye . . . Fine! . . . Bye."

"Jay? What's wrong?"

"That was Catherine."

"Who?"

"The director of Twilight."

"Oh. What'd she want?"

"To tell me that, uh, I have to go back."

"Oh."