Eve's POV
I was still rattled. No — rattled was too mild, too polite, like the shaking of a teacup on its saucer. I was wrecked, unsteady, like the ground beneath me wouldn't stop shifting.
Drake had done that to me.
His kiss still haunted my mouth, ghostly and invasive, clinging like smoke after fire. I could still feel the wall pressing against my spine, his hands gripping too tight, the heat of his mouth claiming mine like I'd been his all along. And worse — so much worse — I had kissed him back. Not just out of instinct, not just shock. I had leaned into it, body betraying me, heart betraying me, everything inside me betraying me.
That kiss had splintered me.
My lips still burned from it, a phantom sting that pulsed whenever I swallowed. My heart still sprinted from the memory of his hands caging me in, his tongue forcing me to remember what it felt like to belong to someone I swore I didn't.
