Patrick's Day when I pick up my holiday dessert from your grocery store. So, 365 days, minus a few hours.”“That's too long. We need to keep you fe....” He cringed at his words. “I want to feed you.”What?“I want you to eat food and I eat food, together,” Jacob attempted to explain. “Dinner. Again. You're making me nervous.”“How? I'm just standing here.”“I'm scared that I'm making a fool of myself in front of the coolest girl in town.”Puzzled at that statement, as I was wearing a grungy shamrock. It took you 15 minutes to get home, I was shivering a bit by then and you pulled me close to warm me up, kissing me and opening the door to get us inside and out of the weather.I sat at your kitchen table as you turned up the heating and put on the kettle for some coffee. We'd both been out at Christmas parties and the tequila (mine) and the wine (yours) was making us both a little sleepy. It was less awkward this time, partly because of the alcohol we'd both consumed and partly because of the. More

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