MIA POV

The car ride to the party felt like an eternity. Layla and Scarlett had wasted no time making themselves comfortable, and by comfortable, I meant inserting themselves into every second of the conversation with Tristan.

So, Tristan, Layla started, leaning closer to him, her voice light and syrupy sweet. Whats your type?

Yeah, Scarlett chimed in, smirking from her seat beside me. You must have a type. Someone youre drawn to. Like a mate, perhaps?

Tristan kept ...