Kelvin’s POV
“Celine?”
She's standing before me, like a ghost, a small bandage wrapped around her head.
Looking at us, it's easier to tell our crime, which is just as blissful, as much as it is forbidden.
Yielding to reflex, she reaches for my injured arm, and I flinch like I detest her touch.
“I'm sorry,” she mumbles, regretting her decision as she pulls back.
“Can I come in?”
She looks sad. She's bound to be anyway.
Giving her a silent response, I walk away, leaving her with options to either come in or leave.
“I came as soon as I recovered. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier to warn you…”
“You have no obligation to protect me, Celine.” I sweep the table for my Cuban, pulling out the huge stick from the pack and sticking it into my mouth.
Crossing my legs by the knee, m
