The hum of the engine filled the silence as I drove, my hands steady on the wheel. The road stretched ahead, lined with trees that swayed lazily in the breeze, but my focus was razor-sharp. The week had been... something else.
Having Layla in my house, lounging on my couch, watching rom-coms with my grandma like she belonged there, it had been both infuriating and surprisingly easy. She made herself at home so effortlessly, and despite my better judgment, I found myself enjoying her company. Too much.
How many times had I caught myself staring? At her messy hair in the mornings, at the way she scrunched her nose while concentrating on a game, or at her silhouette against the pool when she thought I wasn't looking?
Too many.
And worse, there were moments when the pull felt almost unbearable. Moments when I wanted to grab her, press her against the nearest wall, and...
