(Vince POV)
I didn't sleep.
Not the kind where you toss and turn dramatically like a tragic lead with commitment issues — no. It was worse. I closed my eyes, drifted, woke up, stared at the ceiling, closed them again, stared harder, and then somehow ended up questioning my entire existence by 5:12 AM.
Which was deeply offensive.
Because I have never been a character who loses sleep over a girl.
Girls usually lose sleep over me.
That's been the established hierarchy.
So why the hell was Lara Chua living rent-free in my thoughts like she'd signed a lifelong lease agreement?
I groaned and rolled onto my side.
Passing fancy.
Temporary distraction.
Momentary lapse in judgement.
Say it enough times and it should work, right?
Except my brain, traitor that it was, decided to replay yesterday's dinner like a highly curated cinematic montage:
Her smile.
Her laugh.
The slight pause before she spoke.
The way her eyes softened when the group felt genuine.
