DALA
He was leaving me behind. Abandoning me by the roadside. My heart had never felt so swollen.
So full of nothing but gnawing sadness and pain as it dawned on me just how small I was.
“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.
I waited for the sound of roaring engines and spinning tires, but nothing happened. Instead, the door creaked.
When I looked up, Vander was walking toward me, holding a black jacket in one hand, his shirt already damp and clinging to his skin in a way that would’ve stolen my breath if I wasn’t already choking on it.
Without a word, he draped the jacket around my shoulders. His hands lingered just slightly longer than they needed to, and he didn’t meet my eyes right away.
“The rain,” he muttered, glancing up at the sky, “has impeccable comedic timing. It must be
