Jas.
By the time I walked back to the kitchen, I was already smelling the food from the hallway. That smells fantastic, I thought, my stomach growling in full agreement. “That smells fantastic,” I said out loud, trying to sound normal, casual, like I hadn’t just screamed into a pillow over a man who sent me lingerie with my dinner plans.
But I stopped short in the doorway when I saw who was there, sitting with Uncle Matthew.
Sitting there at the kitchen table like she belonged there with one perfectly manicured hand wrapped around a bottle of water, her glossy lips pursed into that smug half-smile she wore whenever she wanted someone to know she was one step ahead.
I knew this house was her uncle’s but what in the world was she doing here anyway?
Just like that, all the warmth drain
