Luke:
The first thing I felt was heat.
Not the gentle kind that comes from morning sunlight, but the kind that lingers on skin after a night you can’t forget. My arm was heavy across her waist, my palm splayed against warm, bare skin. Her breathing was slow, steady. For a second I let myself stay there, eyes closed, the faint scent of smoke and motor oil clinging to her sheets and my own skin.
Alex.
A name that felt like a dare even in silence.
The garage below us was quiet, just the faint hum of the AC. No sirens, no calls over the radio. No reason to move—except that she was already shifting out from under my arm.
I cracked one eye open. The room was gray with early light, and she was standing at the edge of the bed, sliding into black jeans like she’d been born to make denim dange
