MELISSA’S POV

The soft bump of the plane touching down pulled me from my thoughts. We were in Atlanta. I pressed my forehead briefly against the small window, watching the city lights twinkle against the dark velvet sky. The city seemed alive, vibrant, almost welcoming us into its arms. Xavier stretched beside me, his hand brushing mine in that effortless way that still sent sparks racing through my veins.

For once, this wasn’t about competitions, cameras, or pressure. This was ...