Hazel’s POV
Before I could stop myself, my feet moved.
I ran.
Straight into him.
My arms wrapped around his neck so tight I probably hurt him, but I didn’t care. I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of clean soap and that cologne he always wore because he said it made him smell sexy.
“Dimitri,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Oh my God, Dimitri. I can’t believe you’re here.”
He stiffened for half a second—like he wasn’t sure what to do with his arms—then slowly hugged me back. Awkward. Careful. Like he was afraid I’d break.
I pulled back just enough to grab his face with both hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, searching his eyes, his skin, looking for any sign that this was a trick. A bruise. A scar. Anything that would tell me he’d been hurt, tha
