Dinner was an exercise in torture.
Mum had cooked salmon and asparagus, filling the kitchen with savory aromas that should have made my mouth water. Instead, I pushed the food around my plate, acutely aware of the predator sitting next to me.
Liam ate with a focused intensity, but his knee brushed against mine under the table every few minutes. Each contact sent a fresh wave of that addictive, humming warmth through my leg, making it impossible to focus on Mum’s endless chatter.
"So, Prom is coming up," Mum announced, her voice too bright. She looked between us, her eyes gleaming with matchmaking intent. "Luna, have you sorted out your plans?"
I choked on a spear of asparagus, coughing violently. Liam’s hand was instantly on my back, rubbing soothing circles that felt like brands again
