Thorne.
I knew she’d be there, lingering by the lot, eyes scanning for my car like a secret she couldn’t quite hide.
Mia, with that restless hunger still painted across her face, thighs probably still slick from what I’d done to her.
She’d want to slide into the passenger seat, skirt riding up, hand finding my thigh the second we pulled away. And Christ, part of me burned to let her.
But I couldn’t.
I’d left before the final bell, engine idling just long enough to watch the crowd spill out, then eased onto the road without looking back.
Boundaries.
That’s what I told myself as the school shrank in the rearview. We needed them—sharp, deliberate lines—before this thing between us bled into daylight and invited questions neither of us could answer.
One raised eyebrow from a collea
