The perfume.
The way she’d blown up her life and forced herself into ours.
I told her she was reckless.
And now she was careful witheverything.
Even her breathing.
Luca hadn’t moved, either. Just laid there, still as a shadow. But I could feel the way his attention tracked her across the room. Could feel the flick of tension when her sleep shirt rode too high on her thigh.
Could feel the same irritation sitting in his chest that was burning in mine.
It wasn’t attraction.
It waspunishment.
She was the punishment.
And somehow, she didn’t even know she was dishing it out.
Because this girl—the one who used to restock our minibar and smile at us even when we ignored her—was gone.
This version didn’t speak unless spoken to.
She walked in at midnight and left before the sun rose.
She hadn’t missed a single check-in since her curfew was enforced.
She didn’t smell like flowers anymore.
She smelled like…nothing.
And that made me angrier than anything.
When the light clicked off and the room fell into black again, I didn’t stop typing.
Not because I had something important to write.
But because I didn’t trust myself if I let my hands go still.
I didn’t trust myself aroundher.
Because maybe I didn’t want her to stop smiling.
Maybe I didn’t want her to stoptrying.
And maybe, just maybe?—
I didn’t want her to leave the room ever again.
But if I wanted her to stay for real…
I’d have to grow the fuck up.
I’d have toapologize.
And I didn’t know if I could.