The next door love
“Too much?”
“No,” I whispered quickly. “Just… don’t stop.”
His smile softened, and he leaned in, kissing me—slow, warm, lingering. Not rushed. Not hungry. Just full. When we pulled back, my heart felt like it might burst.
“I’ve never had this,” he said quietly. “Someone I can talk to like this. Laugh with. Be real with.”
I traced his jaw gently. “Me neither.”
We stayed there, wrapped in each other, talking about silly childhood dreams, embarrassing moments, favorite family memories—our voices low, our laughter soft, our touches easy and familiar.