That night, sleep refused to come easy.
I kept turning over in bed, flipping my pillow, dragging the blanket up and down like it could somehow quiet my thoughts. It didn't.
Because my mind was stuck on one thing.
Drew.
That stupid, unexpected good morning.
The way he just… stood there like it was nothing.
I pressed my face into my pillow and groaned.
I literally embarrassed myself in front of him. I can't believe he saw me choke.
On a normal day, he would've walked past us like we didn't exist. Why didn't he today?
My chest tightened.
Was it because of last night?
The way he dragged me out at the party.
The way his voice dropped when he was angry.
My body felt restless, like I didn't know where to put my hands, where to look, what to do with all this… energy.
And then, because my brain clearly had no self-respect, it replayed that moment.
The way his hand felt around my wrist.
The way he leaned in.
The way his voice dropped when he was close.
