Kendrick
The scent of jasmine filled the room before I even saw her. Cindy. I didn’t have to turn around to know she was there.
I could feel her presence, that cloying energy she carried, the same one that used to pull me in.
I didn’t turn. I didn’t acknowledge her. Maybe if I ignored her long enough, she’d get the message and leave.
But Cindy never took the hint.
A soft rustle of fabric, and then I felt it—the weight of her body settling onto my lap.
I went rigid.
“Cindy.” My voice was sharp, a blade meant to cut through whatever game she was playing.
She didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against my ear. “You used to love it when I sat like this,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down my chest.
I grabbed her wrist before she could go any further. “Ge
