Vincent’s POV

I left the party twenty minutes after she did.

The taste of her was still on my fingers when I walked into my apartment. I poured a drink I didn’t want and stood at the window, replaying the way her body had clenched around my fingers when she forced the word out.

I told myself she wouldn’t come.

The knock came just five minutes after one in the morning.

Uneven. Too hard.

I opened the door. She stood there in the same dress, coat half off one shoulder, eyes bright with alcohol and something sharper. She pushed past me without waiting and walked straight into the living room...