I didn't sleep.
I lay there all night, staring at the cracks in my ceiling while the evening replayed in jagged loops, Adrian's voice in the car, my parents' faces, the number one million marching across my brain and I couldn't switch it off.
And the kiss.
God, the kiss.
Every time I shut my eyes, I felt it again, the firm, deliberate pressure of his mouth on mine, his hand curving around the back of my neck, thumb resting right where my pulse had gone wild. My body remembered it in humiliating detail: the heat, the shock, the way the room had blurred around the edges until there was only him and the stupid, treacherous way I'd leaned in.
My mother had knocked softly about an hour after he left.
"Lena?" Her voice through the door was gentle, too gentle. "Can I come in?"
I'd consider
