Sweet Dreams
I whispered, Because after a night like this it’s quite hard to forget being fucked under the stars.
The next morning, the golden sunlight poured through the gauzy curtains of the beach house, lighting up the remnants of last night's party—a few empty bottles, discarded sandals, and crumpled beach towels. My body still hummed with the memories of Matteo's hands, his lips, and the way he had utterly unraveled me.
I told myself it was a one-time thing, just an incredible, mind-melting hookup. That was how summer flings went, right? I could pack up the memory of Matteo Bianchi and tuck it away like a sweet little secret.