ELENA’S POV
The moment Aiden appeared, the air shifted—charged and heavy, like the stillness before a storm. Marisol’s quick bow and hurried exit left me alone with him, and I could already feel the tension coiling in my chest.
I crossed my arms, my voice sharp and brittle. “What do you want, Aiden?”
But before the words even settled, he moved. One second, I was bracing for another argument, another lecture about London, about Lisa, about her. The next, his arms were around me, pulling me so close I could feel the heat of his body and the rapid thud of his heart against mine.
And then his lips were on mine again. My mind blanked. My breath hitched.
I should have pushed him away. I should have slapped him like I did before. But for a second—a single, traitorous second—I was f
