She could hardly say to him, that there was a quote from a favourite author that she loved, and that two seconds ago it had come to her mind rather inappropriately, although not entirely unexpectedly. She could hardly say to him, that it had stuck there ever since, impatiently doing the rounds in that tiny space between her ears. And if she wasn’t careful, it would just jump out her mouth, land itself on the table between them and start dancing naked around the cakes. No, she could hardly say to him, that it went like this:
She could hardly say to him: I was thinking of what it would be like to kiss you.
(“The Right Attitude to Rain”, Alexander McCall Smith)
~cranky sleepless creature~