Sarah's POV
The next morning started with golden light pouring into Mia’s kitchen and the comforting scent of vanilla coffee that made the hangover from yesterday’s emotions a little easier to stomach.
I sat cross-legged on the barstool in one of Mia’s oversized hoodies, hair messy, eyeliner smudged, with a story on the tip of my tongue and butterflies in my chest.
Mia leaned on the counter, arms crossed and a sly grin tugging at her lips, like she already knew the headline to the story I hadn’t dared to say aloud.
“So?” she prompted, handing me a steaming mug and arching one brow. “Are you going to keep acting as if nothing happened, or do I have to interrogate you?”
I held the coffee close like it could shield me from the truth, biting my lip before the words finally spilled out lik
