Touch yourself (1)

Charlotte's POV

I’ve always been the careful twin, the one who colors inside every line while Lila paints the town in wild streaks of trouble. So when she sauntered into our apartment last week with Jax draped over her shoulder like a prize, I told myself to stay detached but one look at him and detachment became impossible.

Jax was sin wrapped in muscle—broad shoulders, veined forearms, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His storm-gray eyes held a quiet dominance that made my stomach tighten the moment they locked on mine. Lila giggled, already tipsy, introducing us with a sloppy wave. “This is my boring...