Elena’s Point Of View

The drive back felt like a fever dream I couldn’t wake from. Rain still streaked across the windshield in silver rivers, the world beyond a smear of dark greens and blacks, the wipers keeping time like a ticking clock.

Jaxx had one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the console, close enough that the heat of his skin seemed to seep into me. I hated how aware I was of it. Every shift of his fingers, every subtle flex of muscle under his jacket, made my ...