Amara’s POV
Every instinct screamed at me to push Ethan away, to walk out of the underground parking garage and never let him close enough to unravel me again, but my body betrayed me. He was standing too close; his voice had gone low and rough.
Five years ago, one reckless night with a stranger became the memory I could never shake. I still remember the smell of rain on downtown pavement and the neon lights flickering against the hotel windows. Sometimes, I can still feel the echo of his hands on my skin and the rush of wanting something I should have left alone.
“Say something, you’re just staring,” Ethan murmured.
I swallowed hard. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re avoiding the question.”
“What question?”
His eyes burned into mine. “Why did you run from me in Chicago?”
My pulse s
