The walk had been exactly what I needed. The sun was high, the villa's sprawling gardens quiet, and the rhythm of my feet hitting the gravel path had given me space to clear my head.
I wasn't running away from anything not the almost-kiss with Layla, not the way she'd made me feel when she praised my sketches. I just needed the distance, the air, the solitude.
I could have given her a swimsuit, I thought, wiping the light sheen of sweat from my brow as I stepped inside the villa. But no. That would have been a mistake.
Layla had a way of commanding attention without even trying. The last thing I needed was the image of her in something small and revealing lodged in my mind. I was already teetering too close to the edge as it was.
