Desmond Loupé
After going shot for shot with her friend, Cassandra seemed looser. Her shoulders, which usually carried the weight of the world, dropped, and her laughter came more freely. She was more relaxed now, less tense, and Desmond couldn’t help but smile to himself. She clearly needed to let off steam, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her.
“It’ssss a good thing I Ubered here,” Cassandra slurred, her voice lilting like a playful melody. “I feel so good right now,” she giggled, leaning her head against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I think it’s time I take you home,” Desmond chuckled. She was adorable like this—unguarded, vulnerable, and completely unaware of how much she was pulling at his heartstrings.
He’d had a drink when he first arrived but
