Christiana's POV
I woke up to Sam sneaking in the bed, wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me closer to his body. He kissed my neck before burying his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply.
Yeah… this simple movement awoke the butterflies in my stomach, the ones I ignored for the past week since I knew Sophia was well and alive.
I may be keeping the pretending game, but it's not like I have a choice, and we haven't done the deed since his outbreak. We just cuddled, made out for a few minutes, normal relationship things.
Why does physical touch have to be Sophia's favorite?
I can't even describe the amount of guilt I was bottling inside of me. The guilt of liking how good he f****d me that day. I know it hurt Sophia, but she also knows I can't control this.
The only thing
