Sara Michaels
I drove slow. Too slow for my liking. The streets were empty and the city lights smeared across my windshield like wet paint. My hands stayed tight on the wheel, knuckles white. Kingsley’s jacket was still wrapped around me warmly, heavy, smelling like him. I didn’t take it off. Didn’t want to. It felt like the only thing holding me together right now.
My lips still tingled.
His taste still lingered...coffee, mint, something deeper I couldn’t name. Every time I swallowed I tasted him again. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since we pulled apart in that parking lot. It kept slamming against my ribs like it wanted out.
I shouldn’t have kissed him.
I shouldn’t have wanted to kiss him again the second we stopped.
But I did and that scared me more than anything.
I reached for
