ASH POV
Alright, picture this: it’s a Saturday night, I’m at my usual haunt—the bar where the drinks are as strong as the gossip—and I’m minding my own business, flipping through my phone like I’m not a social butterfly who can’t wait to spill the latest tea. Then, bam—in walks Silas, looking like a stormcloud with a side of brooding intensity. Oh, honey, you know I live for this drama.
I take a sip of my drink and lean back in my chair, crossing my legs like I’m in some fancy magazine shoot. “Well, well, well,” I call out, waving a hand at him like I haven’t seen him a million times already. “Look who’s gracing us with his presence. What’s up, mister ‘I-pretend-to-have-it-all-together-but-I’m-just-a-hot-mess-inside’?”
Silas just shoots me a look. You know, the ‘I’m-serious-right-now’ l
