As she crossed back to the living room, she wondered if she should have taken off her shoes before she roamed all over his apartment. She glanced behind her, double-checking that she hadn’t been leaving dirty footprints all over his apartment. She would have loved to explain to him tomorrow that despite the evidence, she had not been snooping all over his apartment. Luckily her shoes were clean enough, despite the walk through the London streets, that she had left no damning evidence behind. She slowed her pace as she approached the couch, taking smaller, careful, steps hoping not to wake him. She had just begun to lean down to put the note on the coffee table when his hand snaked out and wrapped around her waist.