The cold air bit through my skin the moment I stepped outside Damian’s house, sharp and unforgiving, like it knew what I’d done.
I didn’t even bother pulling my coat tighter. I needed the sting, something real, something that wasn’t the ghost of his lips still pressed against mine. My steps were uneven, hurried, though I couldn’t tell if I was running from him or from myself.
The quiet street stretched ahead, bathed in the pale wash of early morning light. It should’ve felt calm. Peaceful. But everything inside me was chaos, loud, clashing, unbearable.
Taylor.
The name alone hit me like a slap.
What was he doing right now? Probably still trapped in that awful house with his father’s drunken rage echoing through the walls. While I was locking lips with Damian.
The guilt was acid in my
