Danielle POV
I watch Knox’s bike disappear down the street, the roar of the engine slowly fading until silence settles over everything. Maybe I should’ve let him walk me. Not because I’m scared—God knows I’ve spent enough time being scared—but just for a few more minutes with him. A few more quiet seconds where I could still feel his warmth, still have his scent clinging to me like comfort.
I sigh, turning back inside and heading into the bathroom. I grab my brush from the counter, deciding to skip the hairdryer. There’s no point. I twist my damp hair into a messy bun and secure it with a tie, fingers still buzzing faintly from the feel of his skin under them.
When I step back into the bedroom, I stop.
“Sam.” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed.
His name falls from my lips like a brok
