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Summary
He looked good—too good, in fact—and it almost irritated her. There were other people here, for fucks sake.
But it wasn’t just the clothes. It was the way he looked at her—like no time had passed, even though they hadn’t seen each other all season. His eyes softened when they locked on hers, a slight smile tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly what she was thinking but wasn’t going to let her off that easily.
Baela felt a jolt, a heat low in her stomach that she was determined to ignore. This was always the issue. The intense need for one another just below the surface, waiting for a slip in control. Even in public.
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miami heat, lose control.
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