After a couple games of footsie and more wine than they should’ve had, he drives her home. She smiles to herself the whole way because of the warm, big hand resting on her knee. She grabs it and tangles it with hers. No radio, just the windows down, driving along the bright highway. They sneak a look at each other at certain instances, containing love and desire.

            The car reaches her apartment building and they just sit there, searching each other’s faces for a hint or a ‘go ahead’, both of their minds racing. He reaches his hand up to rest on her cheek, and she slides her eyes closed, glad he made the first move. She feels him coming closer, his breath on her face. Their lips touch and it’s everything that she’s secretly been waiting for.

            With her hands on his back, under his shirt, her pressed against the car window, him practically on top of her, and his hands places she once would have been embarrassed of, he breaks this passionate kiss.

            “Pam,” he barely makes out. The tone of his voice is too much for her and she pushes him off of her, turns around and opens the car door and gives him a look so as if he should definitely follow. He does what he’s told through her powerful green eyes and follows her to the apartment entrance…