My house is buzzing with her warmth. Same as my blood.

Probably explains why I almost kissed her. By some miracle I was able to curb that impulse at the last minute. But it’d been close.

Too close.

“Can’t decide if I want sweet or salty.”

“Sweet or salty?”

“Yeah. Sweet, like Father of the Bride. Or salty, like episodes of The Sopranos. I was going to suggest Twilight, but then I assumed your inner werewolf fangirl has seen that one a hundred times, so…”

I smile. I love how she holds no punches. There’s no beating around the bush with this girl. No bullshitting. She’s straightforward about who she is and what she wants, and I fucking like that. A lot.

“Team Jacob for life. Your pick.”

“Go figure, I’m team Edward. No wonder we never got along. How about The Sopranos?”

“I could go for some Tony and Carm,” I reply, pulling up the OnDemand portal.

“Isn’t Carmela kind of the best?”

A boom of thunder rattles the windowpanes. Sounds close. The storm must be right over us.

Immediately my mind goes places it shouldn’t. What if it lasts all night? What if it’s too dangerous for Julia to walk home?

What if she stays and we touch and we flirt and we end up naked?

“Kind of? She is the best. There are so many great characters on this show, but I have to say that she’s my hands down—”

I nearly jump when the electricity blinks out with an audible zap.

“Uh oh,” Julia says.

The sudden arrival of near-complete darkness is discombobulating. I blink once, twice, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the sea of blackness we’re swimming in.

Wrong that my first thought is oh shit I hope this doesn’t mean Julia’s going to leave?

I’m not done yet. Not done feeding her—I have two pints of Jeni’s ice cream in the freezer. Sweet cream biscuits and peach jam and Savannah buttermint.

I’m not done talking and laughing and just being with her.

I’m voracious for this woman in every way imaginable.

In ways I have no right to be.

I should take this as an opportunity to politely but firmly suggest our evening is over. I haven’t had too much wine to drive; I could easily take her home and call it a night.

But I can’t. I haven’t had this much fun—felt this good—in years.

My eyes start to adjust, shapes and silhouettes coming into view. I find Julia’s eyes. They glimmer in the dark. A sparkler that’s just been lit, emitting its first flashes of light.

“Do you have any candles?” she says, rising. “A flashlight maybe? I think my phone is somewhere on the counter…”

I dig my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight. “I got it. I’ll go find some candles and grab my iPad—I think I have a few episodes of Game of Thrones on it if you’d like to watch that?”

She blinks. Furrows her brow.