Isabella.
If avoiding temptation was an Olympic sport, I would have at least gotten a bronze medal for effort. But living under the same roof with said temptation? That was straight up asking for divine intervention.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew Louis was fine—like annoyingly fine. The kind of fine that made you question your morals, standards, and even your Wi-Fi password. But none of that mattered. Because this man? This exact man had once told me, word for word,
“You’re amazing, but I don’t want anything more with you.” And you know what? I had respected that.
So what was he doing shirtless in my kitchen like he was auditioning for a laundry detergent commercial?
No. Absolutely not.
I had to get out of there. Fast.
That was the reason I woke up early, got dressed in jeans and a plain
