Isla wasn’t sure when the thrill had turned to dread and anxiety.

Maybe it was the night she kissed Liam in the shadows of her garage, barely pulling away before his mother walked in through the back door. Maybe it was the dinner party where his hand slid between her thighs under the table, and she bit her lip so hard it left a mark. Or maybe it was this morning, when she saw Marcie’s number flash on her phone and felt panic, not excitement.

It was too much. Too risky. Too much what ...