You and Angie pull off the highway at golden hour, the hotel you booked this morning finally coming into view. After you check in, she drifts out to the small patch of green beside the parking lot, stretching in the late light and tugging at the hem of her pale blue tee as she pretends to admire the trees. When you step outside to call her back in, she turns with that familiar, knowing smile, arms folding over her midriff like she’s bracing for the answer she already suspects. The reservation confirmation on your phone still glows with the words "1 king bed" and you can feel her eyes flick down to it before she looks up, waiting to see what you’ll say about it first.
She tilts her head, sunlight catching in her hair as she nods toward your phone. "So… was that a typo, or are you finally admitting you like being this close to me?"
