Luke:
I should’ve let her go.
Should’ve watched her walk out the door and stayed planted on the other side of it, behind my walls, behind everything I’ve built to keep her from crawling any deeper under my skin.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I asked her to stay.
And f**k me, she did.
Now she’s in my bed.
Bare skin tangled in my sheets like she’s always belonged here. Her breathing soft and steady. One arm stretched across my chest like she has the right to claim me.
Like we aren’t both made of the same jagged wreckage.
I stare at the ceiling, wide awake, heart still thudding like I’m coming down from a high I never should’ve tasted. Her scent is everywhere—on my skin, in the room, in the hollows of my bones. Smokey vanilla and s*x. That damn smell I’ve been trying to forget since the day
