Lola’s POV

I left Flint’s room so quickly my steps echoed in the corridor. My hand still tingled where his fingers had caught me, and my chest felt like it would burst.

If I had stayed even a moment longer, I was afraid he would have seen it, the truth I had fought so hard to bury.

I still had feelings for him.

The thought burned, heavy and shameful. I pressed my palm against my mouth as if I could shove it back down.

My pride screamed at me to stay angry, to remember the humiliation of ...