The house was silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the soft tick of the wall clock.
Xander had fallen asleep hours ago, his breathing even and steady beside her. Ava lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of guilt pressing into her chest.
No matter how many times she told herself it was nothing, that what happened, what she felt, was just a passing slip, Tristan lingered in her head like smoke she couldn’t clear.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his mouth, remembered the way his words made her pulse skip.
The thought of him lived under her skin and rent free in her head, a restless current she couldn’t switch off.
It was the way he looked at her and seemed to see past the facade. It was in the way her breath quickened at the memory of his stare, how h
