ngled around my legs, a weight I can't seem to shake. I blink rapidly, disoriented, my head pounding as I try to make sense of my su

re

can feel his presence in the room before I even see him, and the warmth from his body lingers on my skin like a burn. I r

cl

rdrive. I sit up, immediately regretting the movement as dizziness overwhelms me. I hol

still on my sheets, and I can't seem to get away from it. My body betray

r letting things go so far, for letting him in. But the truth

e designer furniture, the sprawling city view outside the floor-to-ceilin

o get ou

wrinkled, my pants are half undone, and I feel a wave of shame as I tug them

r my head when I hear mo

cl

g a beat as the realiza

omeone who just spent the night with a stranger. His dark hair is tousled, eyes heavy with sleep, but the

s voice hoarse, like h

ppened between us at all. I hate how it makes me feel, like I'm the one who's screw

mble, my voice feel

mediately, his gaze sha

to steady my nerves.

judgment in his eyes. "You hungry? I can

ortable in a way that's hard to explain. He's too kind. Too damn pol

ny more complicated. But there's this pull, this str

say, my voice firmer this t

crowd me. He's giving me space, like he understands my nee

aze for too long. "Thanks," I mut

o hard about the mess I'm leaving behind. I don't kno

to step out, Decla

mind," he calls, "I'

und. I just nod

-

eeks

nize the person staring back at me. My skin is pale, my eyes hollowed out from the l

ll of them negative, but something in my gut tells me this one will be different. This

heart pounding in my chest. The lines

iti

breath catching in my throat. I press the back of

est, the numbers

ll am I goi

are too tight, the air too thick. I hold the test in front o

tive. I'm

re than one po

. The thought that it could be Jordan's-my soon-to-be ex-husband-makes my stomach turn. But then, there's Decla

n't be..." I whisper to myself,

I have no idea wh