The room was quiet again. Too quiet, yet Calista’s thoughts were so loud.
Aelina had said something about making pasta before she dragged the others under the pretense of needing help in the kitchen. Only Brian gave her a look before he followed—one of those I–see–you looks that made her throat tighten.
And then she was alone in the living room.
Well, almost.
She looked down at the bags in front of her. Her name wasn't on them, but somehow they felt almost personal. Like he had looked at those things and thought of her, imagined her in them.
She didn't know why that made her heartbeat go crazy, only that it did.
She bent down and opened one carefully like it was glass. Sweater, soft and oversized. A pair of jeans. T-shirts.
And then…
A silk gown. Dark green, and expensive. To
