BOOK 3: Chapter 2: First Brush
Morning sunlight spills through the kitchen windows in soft, angled beams. The apartment is quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional distant creak of settling walls. She stirs a spoon through her coffee absentmindedly, her mind sluggish, her limbs slower.
Gregory’s already gone—left early for a business meeting across town, leaving behind a quick kiss on her cheek and a murmured, “Be back around noon.”
She hadn’t slept well.
Images from last night still cling to the edges of her thoughts, unwelcome yet persistent. Adrian—shirtless, leaning against the hallway wall like sin personified. His voice, that velvet-laced rasp. “Can’t sleep?”
She sips her coffee, but the bitterness does little to ground her.
She tells herself to shake
