No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

I need an excuse.

My phone vibrated twice in my hand, a message from Fanny.

A GIF popped up - a woman in a sultry pose, fresh out of the shower, donning a sexy nightgown...

Followed by a piece of advice from Dr. Willis: "Might be worth giving a try."Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I shot back a facepalm emoji in response.

Though internally I was rolling my eyes at Fanny's lack of seriousness, I couldn't help but think it might actually work. I just needed the perfect excuse to show Ernest this side of me.

Heading to the shower, I mulled over my options.

Blaming it on a message from Allen was out of the question. Ernest would just try to stop me, so that's a no-go.

Asking him to fix a perfectly fine plumbing issue? Couldn't bring myself to actually break something on purpose, so scratch that.

But saying I was hungry and wanted him to cook? That just might work.

Decision made, I hurried through my shower and slipped into the sexy nightgown that I rarely wore.

This particular piece was a purchase made around the time Conrad and I got engaged, anticipating living together.

Ironically, Conrad never got to see it, and now it was Ernest who would.

The black silk clung to my curves in all the right places, the contrast against my pale skin striking.

Not to toot my own horn, but even I found the reflection in the mirror thirst-inducing...

Knock, knock!

The sound came from outside. Couldn't be anyone but Ernest at this hour.

Perfect timing, saves me the trouble of finding an excuse to approach him. But why would he be here so laerhaps he had the same thing in mind...

Feeling my cheeks warm up, I gave myself a quick pep talk in the mirror before asking, "Who is it?"

"It's me. Made you some chicken noodle soup," Ernest's voice, muffled by the door, still carried that deep, appealing tone.

My stomach actually growled at that, and I gave myself a once-over before pulling the neckline of my nightgown down a tad more.

"I was just saying I'm hungry," I said, opening the door, seizing the excuse to mask my nervousness.

Ernest stood there, bowl of soup in hand, his gaze lingering on me longer than necessary. I saw his Adam's apple bob.

Looks like the plan's working!

I couldn't shake the feeling of being a bit mischievous, taking advantage of his innocence like that.

As he handed me the bowl, our

fingers brushed, causing a

noticeable shake in the handoff. Yet he quickly regained his grip, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that seemed to glow with an inner fire...

QUMS

A shiver ran down my spine, a

ition of something more

between us. Hastily,

to

retreat, but Ernest didn't/ext