Ella:
Colt and I were curled up on the couch, a blanket tossed lazily over both of us. The quiet hum of the TV was the only sound between us, something neither of us was really watching. I didn’t know what we were doing anymore. We weren’t talking about it. About last night. About what it meant. Maybe we were too afraid to break whatever fragile peace we’d created in the chaos.
I didn’t know if it was comfort or love or just the need to feel something real again.
Then came the knock.
Three loud, fast pounds on the door.
Colt stiffened beneath me. “Stay here,” he muttered, pushing the blanket off and rising. I watched his shoulders roll back, the tension already flaring in his posture. His eyes were hard by the time he reached the door.
He opened it halfway—only to be shoved backward
