Ava’s POV
I feel like my body isn’t mine anymore. My heart beats fast, and my breathing is shallow. Irish’s grip on my wrist is strong but not painful, but enough to remind me that I can’t escape. His fingers press into my skin, his touch warm and firm.
I hate how my body reacts to him. I hate how his presence makes everything feel confusing.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice low and unreadable.
“Like what?” I swallow hard.
His grip on my wrist tightens slightly, pulling me a fraction closer. My breath hitches. His gaze dips to my lips for a second, so fast I might’ve imagined it. But then, before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on mine.
The kiss is brief, just a few seconds, but it steals the air from my lungs. His lips are warm, firm, pressing agai
