Mikayla POV
The mattress is a bed of rocks, the room a furnace. I kick the covers off and stomp across the room, sliding the window up to let the night air cool my skin. I flop back onto the bed with a groan. My mind runs wild, refusing to switch off—and it isn’t because of Steven and his messages. I couldn’t give a f**k about him.
I can’t stop thinking about what Rafe said.
We had such an amazing weekend together. No hiding. No rules. Being able to touch him, to kiss him whenever I wanted. Walking along the coast hand in hand. Sitting with his arms wrapped around me—it was pure bliss. And then I came home, and he told me not to put a label on us. What does that even mean?
My phone vibrates against my bedside table, but I roll over and ignore it, watching the shadow from the trees d
