Miro
I didn’t consider myself an innocent boy.
I’d had a few relationships over the years, some pleasant enough and others that ended in bitterness or boredom, and I’d started to believe the act itself had lost its edge for me.
Kissing became routine. s*x became mechanical. I’d grown used to the idea that real feeling faded after the first rush, that the body could chase pleasure without the heart ever needing to follow.
But then Bella kissed me.
And everything I thought I knew shattered.
Her lips were soft and hesitant at first, tasting faintly of champagne and courage she probably hadn’t planned on finding tonight. The second I registered it was her—really her—pressing against me on the couch, something inside me cracked wide open.
I’d spent months burying the want, convincing mys
