I don’t wanna go home. Tonight we’ve shared more about our childhoods and funny experiences, and talked about nothing of any significance as well. It didn’t matter what we spoke of, I didn’t wanna stop. I was much more relaxed once I’d said my piece about wanting something serious. It took a great deal of strength not to ravish him after what he said in response. I’d learnt more about Spencer, but there was still so much to discover. He’d let me do most of the talking and it was so nice, for a change, for someone to be interested in me. Me. He’d literally hung on my every word. I’d wished too many times for there to be no table between us because I just wanted to be closer, and straddling his lap was something I was dying to do. Walking towards the taxi rank, Spencer takes my hand, linking his fingers between mine, his palms rougher than I remembered. I try to keep my cool, pretending his touch does nothing, but the tingle from my hand runs a rapid course throughout my whole body.
