Mira's POV

By evening the house felt too big and too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every little sound echo—the hum of the fridge, the tick of the clock on the wall, even my own breathing. I had changed out of his shirt hours ago and put on my own clothes: a soft gray tank top that hugged my curves and a pair of loose black shorts that barely covered my ass. No bra. No panties. Just the thin fabric against my skin. It felt strange after spending the whole day in nothing but his oversized shirt, the way the cotton had rubbed against my bare nipples and...