Popping In

Mae

I was impressed by the cleanliness and organization the moment I stepped through the doors of the museum. I had been to plenty of museums over the years, but Tyson’s felt different. There was soft music playing, something that would have likely been the music of the ancient Egyptians. That was different and it did give a more immersive experience.

I felt eyes on me and looked around, spotting Tyson about forty feet away. He was intently staring at me, making me squirm a little. He was wearing loose-fitting jeans with a black polo. It was casual and sporty and very hot. Once again, my eyes were drawn to his biceps. I wanted to know what the tats were. I wanted to know how many more he was hiding.

When he started walking toward me, I realized I had been ogling him. Even now, my eyes were locked on his. I didn’t move. I didn’t look away and neither did he. I knew there were people around, but I didn’t see them. I didn’t see anything but the man stalking toward me, staring at me like