Lyla's POV
Even though exhaustion was pulling at every muscle in my body, I forced myself to tidy up the kitchen mess. I wiped down the counters, loaded the last few dishes into the sink, and tried to shake off the long day. Just as I was thinking about dragging myself upstairs to bed, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
Declan appeared at the bottom.
My brain completely shut down for a second.
He had changed out of the black T-shirt and sweatpants he was wearing earlier. But he had not put on another shirt. Not even a tank top. Nothing.
He walked into the kitchen completely bare-chested, wearing only those dark gray sweatpants that sat dangerously low on his hips. The kind of low that showed off that sharp V-line, the one that made my mind wander to places it had no business go
