My heart fluttered and I couldn’t help but want to immediately take him up on the idea. “The next time you take a bath…Think about me… There was a huge packet of pink bath beads and rose petals with a handwritten note across the front: “Looking forward to it.” I added a smiley face at the end of my text and walked over to the vase, lifting the flowers up by their stems. I’ll be calling you after I get out of rehearsal.” “I placed something else in the vase for you, too.You should use it to relax tonight. I grinned, looking over at the red and white blooms on my fireplace. “Did you receive the roses I sent you today?” My phone vibrated and I looked at the screen. In other words, he was nothing like Andrew.Įven though his kisses never left me panting and wet, and his touches never set my nerves on fire, he never made me feel like shit. He was the type that kissed you-softly and tenderly, whispering that he liked your lips, but never taking things any further. He was like the nice guy in the Old Hollywood movies, the type that held your hand for no reason at all, the type that walked you to your door and waited until you were completely inside before stepping away. He was kind, sweet, funny, and the perfect example of what it meant to be a gentleman. Ever since I met him, he’d been trying his hardest to woo me-taking me on dates in between rehearsals, joining me as I danced on rooftops and icy park benches.
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