( Alina's Pov)
I pushed the grocery cart through the aisle, as I looked for the products on my list from the shelves. Claire, my friend since high school, walked with me, chattering about her college life. But my mind wasn't on the conversation. It was stuck on him. Dante.
My knuckles were whitening, my grip on the cart handle tightening as I fought to ignore the frustration that came with his thoughts. I could still remember every moment of him, the sight of his pink lips, how gentle they met mine, the way his toxic masculinity intrigued me. I couldn't get it out of my mind, no matter how hard I was trying.
Claire noticed my tension and touched my arm. "What's eating you, Alina?"
I hesitated to tell her. But she was one of those few friends I could trust with almost anything. And I do
