ALEX:
Thursday nights were supposed to be dead.
The kind of quiet where you could hear the hum of the old soda machine in the corner of the garage and the faint buzz of the neon “OPEN” sign outside, still clinging even after hours.
It had been that way most of the week.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Almost easy.
And Luke? Nowhere in sight.
I didn’t know whether to be thankful or pissed about that.
Part of me wanted the space. To breathe. To get the taste of him out of my mouth, to stop replaying the way he’d cornered me at the docks like the big bad wolf. The way he kissed me until my brain went blank and all I could think about was how easily I’d let him pull the strings.
The other part of me…
The other part was waiting. Watching the door like he might stroll in, gun on his hip, jaw tight,
