My eyes slowly slid down.
My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it almost hurt. My breath was stuck until my gaze landed on his collarbone.
Just one look.
That was all I needed.
One stupid glance.
The curtains were half-drawn, letting in weak, grayish light that carved faint stripes across the bed.
My gaze traced the pale stretch of skin visible above his half-buttoned shirt.
His skin was smooth. More like Bare.
And… nothing. There was no freaking hickey.
I blinked once, no twice, confirming because maybe I wasn't seeing right.
But no, there it was, his collarbone was clean without any mark or even a mini scratch.
Untouched.
No purple blotch, no ugly bruise blooming like the one I had seen in Caroline's photos.
Relief and disappointment slammed into me so fast I almost swayed.
My lungs let out a shaky puff, a breath I had not realized I had been holding for what felt like forever.
