Lia
I wake up in my bed, but it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. The blanket is tangled around my legs, half kicked off during the night, and my pillow is still damp from sweat. I blink at the ceiling, trying to ground myself, but all I can feel is him. The weight of his body and the way his hands explored every inch of me like he already knew I would let him. My fingers drift to my lips, and I swear I can still taste him there. It makes my stomach twist in a way I don’t know how to stop. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like that. Not with him. I close my eyes, and the memory pulls me under.
The car was silent, except for the steady hum of the engine and the sound of his fingers tapping the steering wheel. He didn’t look at me, not even once. I watched him anyway, searching for someth
