Alina’s pov.
I lay in bed and stared at the drawing I made of Edrick. I held the pad above my head and looked at every line, every shadow, every detail I had poured into it. I wished I could tear the page out, rip it into pieces, burn it, anything. Because he was never meant to see it. It was something private. Something secret. Something that belonged to the version of me that could not stop thinking about him even when I desperately wanted to.
My throat tightened and I placed the sketchpad on my stomach. I felt miserable. Completely miserable. I hated that he saw it. I hated how exposed it made me feel. And I hated the fire that ran through my body the moment he kissed me in the kitchen. That kiss was still on my lips. I could still feel the way he held me. The way he breathed against
