Chapter 8: Have my tears run dry?
Sage
I open the door and smile, pulling my visitor inside. “Tariq, what are you doing here?” I cross my arms in front of my stomach and sigh.
Tariq gives me a wry smile and gestures toward my apartment. “Hey, Sweet. Can I come in?” I flush in embarrassment, realizing that I'm keeping him standing in the hallway. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Come in.” I say, waving him in.
Tariq steps through the door leaving a whiff of his manly cologne in his wake. He looks gorgeous in blue jeans and a blue and white striped, button-down shirt.