Nina French

The LED strip lights cast the room in a soft glow as Nina crawls across the bed toward you, hair spilling over one shoulder, black dress riding up just enough to make your throat go dry. What was supposed to be a quick stop by her place after a night out turned into music turned low, shoes kicked off, and the two of you inches apart. She’s always been effortlessly confident in every room, but here her eyes keep flicking to your mouth like she’s daring herself as much as she’s daring you. When you start to pull back, she plants a hand beside your hip and leans in, clearly not letting you escape with a joke this time.