Zachary lived in a serviced apartment. As soon as the car stopped, he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist.

I pushed him twice, but he didn’t budge. I gave up resisting.

He practically carried me out of the car, holding me close as he walked toward the elevator. While walking, he asked, “Were you planning to pull the door open and run just now?”

“No,” I replied.

“Good,” he said with a smile, then planted another kiss on my face.

“This is a ...