Paloma Perez.
The sound of gunshots outside reminds me where I am. And the cushion memory of Elijah’s lips on mine helps me settle the fact that I’ve crossed a bridge I can never go back from.
I said okay. I told him to pursue me. Why?
Paloma, why?
You were already stupid and vulnerable with Caden, and now this? Why am I drunk on the way Elijah’s hands feel, the way he walks, looks, his eye contact, the dark nostalgia of him These are literally the same traits I used to fear. Maybe I am drunk like he said.
And why did he give me the code to his room? Does he really think I’d snoop?
Ah. I need to return this dress to Rebekah but I’ve messed it up. Saturday is free so I should be able to work on it. Good thing I’m a fashion icon—not to toot my own horn, but yeah, I’m tooting it.
I
