Andrea’s POV
Somewhere in a quiet corner of Las Vegas, hours past midnight. I didn’t want to go home.
Not after everything. Not after Aunt Irish’s silence. Not after her haunted stare that clung to me like I was already halfway gone.
I needed air. No… not just air. I needed him.
So, when I found myself walking beside Braxton under the shimmer of casino lights and broken stars, I didn’t stop to ask if it was reckless. If it was safe. If it was smart.
I just… pulled him by the sleeve into the nearest building with a VACANCY sign and told the front desk I needed a room.
And he followed me. No questions. No hesitations.
Now we were here. Room 407. Soft lights. Clean sheets. The faint scent of lavender and distant chlorine from a pool we’d never see.
I sat on the edge of the bed, heart
