Juliette:
My alarm buzzed softly, vibrating against my nightstand like it didn’t want to wake me. Too late. I’d already been staring at the ceiling for ten minutes.
Sleep had barely touched me last night.
I rolled onto my side, letting my eyes settle on the half-unpacked box of books near the window, the soft glow of morning already bleeding through the curtains. The memory of *him* still lingered—his arms steadying me, the way his voice broke slightly on my name, how my breath had caught when I looked into those warm, familiar eyes.
*Maddox.*
I squeezed my eyes shut. That had to be a dream. Or maybe the wine from last night still clung to my system. But no. It happened. My shoulder still tingled from where he’d caught me, like it remembered.
I shook the thought off and swung my legs
