Reza
The car smells like him.
Leather, cold night air, something distinctly Aaron underneath it all. Steady, controlled, infuriatingly familiar. The door clicks shut and the sound feels final in a way that makes my chest tighten. I stare straight ahead, hands clenched in my lap, jaw locked so tight it aches.
Don’t talk.
Don’t look.
Don’t feel.
The engine starts. Low. Smooth. Too calm for what’s buzzing under my skin.
Starla coils tight inside me, hackles raised, every sense screaming mate even as every instinct snarls danger. The bond hums between us, no longer stretched thin like in the bar, but close now, too close, alive and alert and impossible to ignore.
Aaron pulls away from the curb carefully, like he’s afraid sudden movement might shatter me.
The streetlights streak pas
