Your Hand

As I sit on Devin’s couch, I can’t help but wonder if this is a good idea. I mean…every part of me thinks it’s an amazing idea, yet…I’m not ready to get into any type of relationship with anyone. And I don’t think he is either.

“It’s a red wine.” He yells back from the kitchen. “Does that sound good? Château Lafite?”

“You’re funny!” I yell back. “I know exactly what kind of wine that is and those bottles go for close to two hundred thousand dollars!”

“And I’m a billionaire.” He argues, pushing his wealth, which I hate when people do that.

“Sure!” I yell back. “Bring in the expensive wine that costs more than my grandfather’s house. Let’s get drunk on something that was mashed by someone’s feet over three hundred years ago.”

“Two hundred and fifty years old. And yes, you’re right. It did cost close to that much.”

He walks in, the bottle in one hand and two glasses in his other hand. His ripped jeans and regular black tee shirt make him look like an everyday normal person because when h