.
.
Worse — what had they done?
Her lips still tingled. Her body still ached in places she didn’t want to admit. And every time she thought of how she’d moaned his name, she buried her face into the pillow with a groan.
How am I supposed to face him?
By morning, her nerves were frayed. She dressed quickly in a soft blouse and skirt, tying her hair back to look busy, proper, anything but the flushed, trembling girl from last night. She rehearsed excuses in her head. Maybe she’d say she was too drunk to remember. Maybe she’d avoid him altogether.
But there was no avoiding breakfast.
---
The dining hall was filled with the clink of silverware and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Ethan sat happily at the long table, swinging his legs as he dug into pancakes stacked high with s
