Something heavy pressed down on me, carrying a faint scent of body wash. My gaze landed on a face so close I could see every detail—sharp features, long dark lashes, and those blue eyes that sent my heart into a frenzy.
The pain from that first night suddenly surged up again, like it was carved into my bones.
I shoved Ronald away instinctively.
He was clearly taken aback. After I pushed him, his face clouded over, jaw clenched tight, but instead of snapping at me, he just went quiet.
Taking advantage of that silence, I quickly grabbed my phone and snapped a few photos of him.
There was no way I’d win if he tried anything. If he pinned me down or threw me out, how was I supposed to explain it to Grandpa?
Simple solution—he leaves. If he walks out, Grandpa starts asking q
