Lily's POV
Heat rushed up my face so fast it made me dizzy. I yanked the pillow over my head.
“I can’t face him,” I muttered into the fabric. “I’m moving out. I’m running away. I’m faking my death.”
I lay there for a few more seconds, wallowing in self-pity, but the headache made it impossible to stay still. Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed, washed my face, and staggered toward the kitchen like a defeated goblin. I didn’t expect Dante to be there.
But of course he was, standing by the counter in a crisp shirt like he hadn’t spent half the night dealing with my drunken chaos. He glanced up the moment he heard my footsteps.
“Good morning,” he said smoothly.
I blinked. “Is it?” I mumbled, feeling embarrassed.
“Well,” he said, “you’re still alive, so I suppose that’s a start.”
