Ben wrapped his arm around my waist, and every step, we paused for a kiss. Insecurities churned inside me. Is it too soon to ask him to stay the night? If a magical kiss was as far as it went, I’d still be happy. We reached my front door, and I fumbled in my tiny bag for the key card, my fingers slipping over the contents. After drinking on an empty stomach, I should have realized the stupidity of opening a bottle of wine. I was nervous, though, with Ben in such close proximity, and I’d messed up so much of the evening already. I needed something to give me the courage to ask him to stay. I sloshed wine into two glasses and held one out to him, before he could refuse. “I’m good, thanks.” He took the glass and put it on the table, then moved closer to me. I took a gulp of my drink. Was it just me, or was it hot in here? “You’re wet,” I blurted, and then took another slug of the wine.
