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It was déjà vu waking to the smell of turkey.
"That explains it," Chris mumbled behind me. "Dirk proposed Thanksgiving night.
How you could use the degree to be an archaeologist. I thought it was the perfect area to study.
I'd been half-wishing I had a cigarette because something I'd read recently said smoking helped you relax.
It made me think of him as a mere mortal, like me, and not the super always-in-control-of-everything man he presented himself to be. The word 'vulnerable' came to mind.
And now, their half-naked bodies were rolling all over the plush, suede cushions, the pillows discarded over the back of the couch and scattered on the floor. There were no words that seemed to satisfy what needed to be said.
And when he continued to speak while placing soft kisses all over my breasts, using his free hand to push up the flesh. "I finished my four years and got my degree.
"What. Why is this funny?" He reached out and grasped my hand.