8
Mija. Does it mean anything? Charlotte rolled-up a pair of blue jeans and shoved them into her duffel bag.
“Need help packing?” Damon asked from the doorway.
She glanced at him, and her mouth fell open slightly, a moment of deja vu slipping behind her eyes. The last time she’d done this, she was leaving her university. She’d met Damon, had a wild night with him, and decided to take off. He’d lay on her pinstriped comforter and tried to reason with her while she tried to stuff her favorite clothing into a single bag. She’d succeeded with two bags in the end, and he’d failed at talking her into staying. They’d also had s*x on every flat surface in the room.
He seemed to catch on, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He left, and she heard him pass Wyatt in the hallwa
