Marcel's POV.
“Dude, she got married.” Michael’s laugh cut through the air like a knife. “I knew she could do better than you.”
“Why do I even talk to you,” I muttered, as I reached for the bottle of vodka. The weight of it in my hand was familiar, almost comforting. I tilted it, watching the liquid catch the light, and for a moment I almost smiled.
Because the memory hit me.
“Why exactly do you like vodka?” Aria’s voice. Soft and Teasing As she climbed on top of me straddling my sides …sneaking up on me while I was stretched out on the bed. “Whiskey has a finer taste.”
She was wearing my shirt. Just my shirt,g it swallowed her whole, hanging off her shoulders, brushing against her thighs, but still managing to look like it was made for her. A better fit than anything else I’d ever se
