One night, one carefree night. That was all it was supposed to be.
That’s why I insisted we didn’t exchange names. It seemed to be the most spontaneous thing she’d ever done, and I didn’t want her to ruin it by obsessing about it later.
A few months later, regret from that night had almost eaten away at me. I would say I fell in love with her, but that night was the closest I’d ever come to insta-love.
We’d had our fun, and it had been my idea, yet I’d mentally kicked myself for at least not getting her name.
Until the universe brings us back together in one of the worst places ever, but I decide I won’t let her slip through my fingers. This time, I’ve promised nothing, and all bets are off.