Mister Dream Man
But my feet moved on their own, just a little closer, just enough to peek through the crack in the door.
There were three of them. Young men. Sunburnt, half-dressed, fresh off the beach. One of them stood near the minibar, shirtless, his back to me as he poured something into a glass. I would've recognized that silhouette anywhere.
Renz.
His hair was a little longer now, tousled from the sea. His shoulders broader. He wore board shorts and a careless smile that made my stomach dip. He looked nothing like the boys back home. Nothing like anyone I knew. He was from another world, a world of city skylines, expensive schools, and golden summers. A world I had no place in.
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