Imani’s POV
By the next morning, my apartment smelled like Nicolas had left irritation behind as a scent. I woke up exhausted, my brain still buzzing from last night’s session. The worst part wasn’t even the work, it was the way he had stared at me. Not mockingly. Not smugly.
Just… stared. Like he actually saw me, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, put my hair up, and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes looked tired, like I was already in over my head.
And it had only been one night.
Great.
When I stepped into the living room, June was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a bowl of cereal, watching me with raised eyebrows.
“You look like you got hit by a truck,” she said around a spoonful.
“Thanks,” I muttere
