"Angie'd be pissed," Al laughed. And then she kissed him again because kissing him was so much easier than analyzing what it meant for her to feel like this. Because, if she looked at it too closely, she knew there was something very important and inherently terrifying about the combination of the deep, deep affection she'd always felt for Oliver and the no longer repressed need she felt to be physical with him.
Soon she found herself trailing her lips along his jaw and then dropping her forehead against his shoulder. "What are we doing?" she asked in a whisper.