Lily's POV
I did not sleep, not really. I drifted in and out, trapped between exhaustion and nerves, replaying every single humiliating moment of last night while lying stiffly on the very edge of Dante’s childhood bed. Sharing a mattress with him had sounded manageable in theory. “Just pretend he’s not there,” I’d told myself. Easy right? Except it wasn’t easy. Or logical. Or even close to mature.
Every breath he took felt amplified. Every shift of the mattress sent a soft ripple underneath me. And the more I tried not to think about our kiss—or the way he fled afterward—the more my brain shoved every detail right in front of my face. At one point, I rolled over too fast, forgetting he was that close. My hand grazed his bare forearm—it felt warm and solid. A shock shot straight through
