ANNABEL

I didn’t know how I got off his lap.

Or how my dress still looked decent after that mess of a makeout.

But there I was, sitting quietly, staring out the tinted window, pretending my lips weren’t still throbbing from how hard he kissed me.

Pretending my panties weren’t soaked.

And definitely pretending like I wasn’t about to fall apart if he touched me one more time.

“You okay, cupcake?” Damon asked, voice all casual like he didn’t just rearrange my soul with his ...