Zendaya’s pov
Morning came slowly, filtered through the blinds in soft, uncertain stripes. I woke like I had been shaken awake from a dream I didn’t remember, though the memory clung stubbornly.
The night, the club, the lights, the pulse of music, Darian’s hand at my waist, the play, the amazing s*x with Darian, hovered in my mind, relentless. I shifted beneath the sheets, hair fanned across the pillow, and instinctively reached for the other side of my bed.
Darian was gone. I sighed quietly, I hoped that he would stay. I reached out for my phone.
Three notifications glowed against the dark screen. Beatrice, Darian, and Ransford. My chest tightened at the last name. I opened his message first:
"We need to talk. You slept with him right? I need to talk to you.
Today? No greeting, n
