NOVA POV
My body and heart are sore when I wake in the morning. The blinds are still open, sunlight bleeding gently through the thin curtains, painting the room in a lazy gold that feels almost too kind for the way my chest aches.
Every muscle in is deliciously tender, marked by the hours I’d spent tangled with Grant. Making love.
Not the detached, punishing kind of sex he was used to giving, this was different. It had been slow, consuming, almost reverent and so damn soft.
My heart hurts, though and it’s not from pleasure, but from the ache of everything we’ve survived to get here. The distrust. The secrets. The war between what we wanted and what we thought we deserved.
And now, sohow, I’m officially Grant’s girlfriend.
His girlfriend.
The thought makes smile, even as guilt worms its way into the edges of my joy.
Because if I’m his girlfriend, what does that make to Lena?
The girl who betrayed her best friend for the man she loves most in the world.
I can’t keep this secret forever.
But I can’t tell her yet either.
Not when Sandy’s sowhere out there, whispering venom and watching for cracks. I know her well enough by now to know she won’t give up just like that.
I stare at Grant who is peacefully asleep, breath steady, lashes resting against his cheek and sothing soft unfurls in my chest. I run my fingers lightly across his bronze skin, tracing the ridges of his abs, the faint scars scattered like mories. Imperfect, like both of us.
We’re a pair of broken things trying to heal each other. And sohow, in this quiet morning light, it feels possible.
I slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, and pad barefoot into the bathroom. The tiles are cold against my feet, the air thick with the scent of last night of sweat, soap, and sothing unnaable that still feels like him.
When the hot water hits my skin, I close my eyes and let it wash away the soreness, the guilt, the confusion. Steam curls around , turning the world to mist. I stay longer than necessary, letting the hiss of the shower drown out my thoughts until I almost believe everything’s fine.
By the ti I step out, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, my reflection looks almost peaceful. I comb through my hair slowly, stalling.
In a few hours, I’ll be back in my hostel, surrounded by curious roommates, pretending my mystery man is exactly that — a mystery.
And maybe, if I lie well enough, the truth will stay hidden a little longer.
We parked a building away from my hostel. Grant’s still shirtless under his jacket, hair tousled, lips curved in that lazy smirk that makes my stomach knot.
"The only thing I love about seeing you leave," he murmurs, voice thick and teasing, "is the sway of your ass."
"Pervert," I say, though I’m smiling.
He leans closer, fingers tracing my jaw like he’s morizing . "I love you, my nymph. And I hate letting you go."
The words hit harder than I expected. He’s not one for easy declarations. I swallow, leaning in to kiss the rough edge of his cheek. "Thank you. For the mini vacation."
His hands slide to the sides of my face, and before I can brace myself, his mouth is on mine. The kiss is deep, greedy, full of that possessive hunger that always threatens to undo .
Then his lips trail down my neck, my collarbone and before I can stop him, he’s tugging down the cup of my sundress to suck gently at my bare breast.
"Grant—"
He hums against my skin.
"Grant," I repeat, firr this ti, even though my voice trembles.
He pauses just long enough to look up at , eyes dark, pupils blown wide. "Am I doing sothing wrong?"
Before I can answer, his teeth catch on my nipple, and a sharp gasp escapes . I can feel him, hard beneath , and my body betrays by pressing closer.
"We need to stop," I whisper, trying to sound steady. "We have an audience."
He glances up at the tinted divider, smirks, and taps twice. The screen slides up fully between us and the driver.
"There," he says. "Problem solved."
"Grant—"
But he’s kissing again, hands roaming, breath hot and urgent. The car is moving, circling. I feel the world tilt, my mind swimming between wanting and restraint.
"Grant, stop," I say softly, resting a hand on his chest. "Please."
He goes still.
"Why?" His voice is low, rough. "You’re mine, aren’t you?"
"I am," I whisper, "but I’m also sore. And late. And... I need to go ho."
"Ho," he echoes, eyes softening. "Ho is wherever the heart is, baby."
He kisses my ear, my neck, finding every weak spot like a map he’s morized.
"Let’s continue this later," I murmur, trying to steady my breathing.
"When is later?" His gaze traps again. His hand is sliding up and down my thigh, lazy, knowing.
"Whenever you want it to be," I say, voice barely mine.
He smiles, wicked and boyish all at once. "Then I want it tonight. Sneak away from your friends, et at a hotel.let it be just and you. us."
"Tempting," I admit, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "But tomorrow. I need to recharge. You’ve drained ."
He laughs, the sound low and sinful. "I should be the one saying that, nymph." His hand lands playfully on my ass, and I can’t help but giggle.
We pull up outside a grand hotel. The kind that gleams with money and luxury.
"Back to school," I remind him, smoothing my dress.
He frowns. "You sure? I could—"
"No." I cut him off gently. "Lena might see us. She’d recognize your car from a mile away."
He sighs but nods, then orders a ride for . When it arrives, he pulls in for one last kiss, the kind that steals every rational thought and almost convinces to stay.
Almost.
•"Oh, so you do know the way to this hostel after all," Katie’s teasing voice greets the second I step inside.
I laugh weakly and pull her into a hug, but the warmth dies the mont my gaze shifts past her.
Because standing there, right beside her, is the last person I want to see.
And it’s not Lena, whose expression is too calm and too deliberate.
But beside her —
Sandy.
Sandy’s smile is thin, sharp, and hungry.
"Welco back, Nova," Lena says evenly. "I’m going with Sandra to save the man I love from the clutches of a very evil woman."
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