The air inside our dorm room smelled like a mix of sweet floral perfume, setting spray, and Maya’s endless, chaotic energy.
"If Cole Montclaire is going to stare at you tonight, you need to wear something that makes him completely lose his mind," Maya declared, tossing a dress onto my bed.
There was no use denying it anymore. They had seen enough.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, running my thumb over my phone screen. Cole’s text messages from last night were still sitting there.
“Wear something warmer next time. I don’t like other guys looking at your legs.”
“And if you let another boy touch what belongs to me again, I’ll have to punish you.”
A rebellious spike of stubborn heat flared in my chest. He didn't own me. He didn't get to dictate what I wore, who I talked to, or where I
