IRIS

I haven't stopped thinking about that night. The way Darian's hands moved over me, attentive and deliberate, as if I were something precious.

The way he listened, not just to my words but to the subtle cues of my body. It was more than passion; it was connection.

And I hadn't realized how loud we'd been until this morning when Daisy couldn't stop teasing me, mimicking the sounds I apparently made.

A smile creeps onto my face at the memory, unbidden and warm.

"Earth to Iris," Daisy's voice cuts through my reverie.

I blink, returning to the present. We're in the garden, sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting dappled...