Luna’s POV
He kissed me! Ashton kissed me! Right here, in this room . . .
That single thought keep swirling around my head on a relentless, dizzying loop as I return my bag to the back of the closet and shut the door. I sink down onto the edge of the mattress, my trembling fingers lifting to my lips, where I can still feel the electric sensation of his mouth against mine. He also asked me to stay . . . which, if I’m honest with myself, I’m happy about, and not just because I could lose my job at the Hawks by getting fired.
I play with a loose strand that my finger finds on my comforter, twisting it absentmindedly as my mind hyper analyses every second of what just happened between the hockey player and myself. Why did he kiss me? Was it because I was upset and he was trying to comfort
