Lila
Damon’s grip lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his fingers a vice around my waist. I could feel the strength behind them, the restraint he was forcing upon himself.
"I have a curfew," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "If I’m late, I’ll be scrubbing toilets for a week."
Damon’s jaw tightened, but his hold loosened. "Curfew," he repeated, almost like the word was foreign to him.
I nodded, feeling the heat of his hand even as he slowly withdrew it.
I took a step back, putting space between us, even though the warmth of his touch still lingered on my skin like a brand.
Damon exhaled sharply, his gaze narrowing. "Go, then."
I didn’t hesitate. I turned and ran, not daring to look back.
The night air was cool against my flushed skin, but it did little to soothe
