Cole finally stepped back, running a hand through his hair as if trying to shake off whatever had just happened between us, whatever had made my knees weak and my thoughts fuzzy into silence. Then, with a breath that felt like him pulling himself back together, he muttered, “Lunch’s probably cold.”
I blinked, still pressed against the fridge door, my heart refusing to settle. I wasn’t ready to speak yet, I just gave a small nod and moved to get the table ready.
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I’m learning, experimenting, and finding my voice as a writer. Fan support will help me invest more time into writing, explore new ideas, and eventually work on longer pieces like short story collections or a novel.
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