The penthouse was too quiet.
Landon stood by the window, glass of whiskey in his hand. The city lights blurred into nothing. He'd been staring at them for an hour. Maybe two. Time didn't exist anymore.
All he could see was her face.
Sienna at that café. Sitting across from Noah. Smiling. Talking. Like Landon didn't exist. Like their night together meant nothing. Like he meant nothing.
His grip tightened on the glass. The image wouldn't leave. Every time he blinked, there she was. Noah's hand covering hers. Her lips moving. Her eyes soft.
For him. For Noah. Not for Landon.
He remembered how she used to look at him. That night on the beach. The way her eyes caught the firelight. The way she laughed when he said something stupid. The way she fit against him like she belong
