Jamie’s POV

As I slid into my Porsche, the leather seat cool against my back, I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My hands gripped the steering wheel, but I wasn’t thinking about driving. I wasn’t even thinking about school. All I could think about was her.

Marie.

The image of her at the breakfast table wouldn’t leave me. Her hair had fallen gently over her shoulder, catching the light in a way that made me want to reach out and touch it. She wasn’t wearing much makeup — she never needed it. Her skin was smooth, her lips soft-looking, a shade of pink that...