Lana’s Point of View
The sharp, suffocating stench of alcohol struck me the second I stepped into Christian’s room, and my stomach twisted. Instinctively, I lifted a hand to shield my nose to block out the smell.
He was slouched on his usual couch, shadows pooling beneath his eyes. An empty bottle lay discarded on the table in front of him, while an empty glass dangled loosely from his fingers.
“Hello,” I muttered, quickly closing the door, ignoring his drunken form on the couch. I tried to walk off when his voice stopped me.
“When were you going to tell me that Xavier knows about our little secret?” His voice was low and curious.
My feet froze mid-step; a soft gasp slipped past my parted lips before I could stop it. For a second, the world seemed to tilt.
What?
My mind scrambled,
