Elena's POV
JULIAN:
Where are you?
Elena, it's late. Please answer.
You're not at the house yet. I'm waiting.
Are you okay?
ELENA.
I'm about to call the police if you don't text me back.
Please just tell me you're safe.
Guilt slammed into my stomach so hard I almost doubled over.
I pressed my head against the cool window and closed my eyes. The city blurred past me in streaks of color and light, but all I could feel was the echo of last night—Callum's breath, his hands, the way he looked at me like I was something worth holding onto.
And now Julian. Worried. Panicked. Waiting.
What the hell had I done?
When I got to Julian's front door, I hesitated.
My head was pounding. My heart, worse.
I'd washed my face in the cab, fixed my hair into something passable, even swapped Callum's shirt for the spare hoodie in my bag. But I could still feel it—last night clinging to me like a second skin.
The door opened before I could knock.
