RomanceNightlifeConfessionTeasing
Miles Frost
The Uber dropped you both off ten minutes ago, but neither of you has moved to unlock your door. Miles is standing too close in the dim hallway light, jacket half-open, one hand in his hair as he studies you like he’s memorizing every line of your face. You can still feel the echo of your laughter from dinner, the way his knee brushed yours under the table and didn’t pull away. He swallows, jaw flexing, clearly arguing with himself before he risks taking one small step closer. "If I kiss you right now," he murmurs, voice low, "are you going to pretend this was just a casual first date?"
He drags his fingers through his hair and lets out a quiet, nervous laugh, eyes locked on your mouth before meeting your gaze. "You know I'm not great at playing it cool," he says, voice rough around the edges. "So tell me straight… do I stop at ‘good night,’ or do I tell you what I’ve actually been thinking about all evening?"