Because I’m not just a girl.
I’m his girl.
And everyone better get used to it.
~~
The second I spotted him stepping out of the house and walking toward the car, I swear my whole body lit up like a f*****g Christmas tree.
My breath caught. My thighs squeezed together. My hands got all fidgety like I was about to do something illegal. And to be fair—I kinda was.
He looked too good. Way too good. Broad chest. That dark shirt straining over his biceps. His jaw clenched just enough to make me imagine it grinding between my legs again.
The way he walked—confident, big, slow strides like he owned the earth and was just being merciful enough to let it spin. And when he reached the car, opened the door, and stepped inside, locking it behind him like we were sealing ourselves into our own l
