164. I don’t mean to follow him. It just… happens. I can't help it. I'm thirsty for him and I want more.

I hover at the top of the stairs, bare feet silent against the wood, my body moving before my mind catches up. Every nerve in me is tuned to him now, every sound, every shift of air. When he turns into the kitchen, I linger in the shadowed hallway, heart pounding so hard that I’m afraid it will give me away.

The kitchen light flicks on. Warm and familiar. Our kitchen. Roman moves ...