XAVIER’S POV

The windshield wipers moved in a slow, steady rhythm as I drove through the wet streets. Raindrops kept tapping against the glass, blurring the streetlights into glowing orbs. My hands were on the steering wheel, but my mind wasn’t really on the road.

It was still stuck in that studio.

That damn shoot.

Her face, the way her lips parted slightly in surprise when Marco mentioned the kiss. The faint flush in her cheeks. I could still feel the ghost of her warmth from when ...