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9. Five Days

Aella

Five days. It’s been five long days since I last saw him. I’ve been counting—counting the days, the hours, even the minutes since he last walked through the café door.

Five days. How did five days without seeing him turn me into this... this ball of confusion? One minute he’s all flirt and grin, making my insides do weird somersaults. The next, he’s cold and distant, as if he’s a different guy. What’s his deal?

I have to admit that it terrifies me how much I look forward to seeing him. I know I shouldn’t, right? The only thing I know about him is his name and how he likes his latte.

Now I’m at the laundromat again, daydreaming about God knows what, when the door creaks open. I don’t need to look up to know it’s him; I can sense him and that rugged scent always clinging to him. But when I do look up, my face flushes.

God, he looks divine. His shirt is unbuttoned, carelessly open, revealing an impeccably chiseled chest. It’s not just a chest; it’s a masterpiece, an altar of lean
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Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Paola De Los Santos
So no bond?
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