I throw myself back on the bed, howling.
She watches me for a moment, then pats my thigh. “Don’t be embarrassed; it's cute.”
“Mum!” I cry out. “That stuff is personal. Private.” I am actually going to die!
“Oh, I doubt they even looked.”
She blows me a kiss and disappears. I lie there for a moment and then spring up and race into the hallway. Desperate times call for desperate measures. This is bad but not the worst thing I have done. I peer both ways and then knock lightly on the door.
“Hello?”
I hold my breath, counting. The hallway is empty, just the Sunshine Cove paintings and me.
“This is really, really wrong, Sofia.”
I don’t care.
When no one answers, I carefully turn the doorknob and slip into the room. It looks like my space, but it doesn’t feel like it. A thousand memories assail me. My massive bed takes up the entire right side of the room and my desk the left. And yet, everywhere else, there are traces of them. A brush that isn’t mine, a leather jacket, a pair of flip-flops besidethe bed. A combined smell in the air that reeks of alphas, leaving me dizzy and licking my bottom lip in an effort not to rush to the bed and sniff the pillow.
Focus, Sofia.
There’s a walk-in closet, but I ignore that. Right, where should I check first? My eyes land on the white desk pressed against the wall. I rush over to it and, sure enough, there are those damn hearts.
Carved into the wood.
My teenage infatuation right here, for them to see. I run my fingers along it and break into a cold sweat. What should I do? I could scratch it out, cover it up? They’ve probably already seen it.
Their combined scents mixed with mine hit me hard enough to have my knees trembling. I let out a moan and clench the side of my sleep shorts. I feel too naked and not naked enough. These conflicting urges are messing with my head.
I turn, and there’s the freaking board at the end of my bed on the wall where my stupid self pinned up the drawings I did of them. For a moment, I’m frozen, unable to move a single limb. Hearts upon hearts upon damning hearts. What was wrong with my teenage self? I was obsessed.
I groan.
The door opens. I don’t even try to hide; I just stand there, waiting to see what humiliation is coming next.
Devon stops in the doorway; a wave of his scent hits me. To my surprise, he walks inside and closes the door, and the room gets a thousand times too small. I stumble back, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Hi,” he breathes with a smile that makes my stomach flutter. “Are you stealing now?”
“I would never,” I snap, but then I see the twinkle in his eye and realise he’s teasing me.
He reaches out and brushes my hair back from my face. “I like this look on you.”
“What look?”
“I’m not sure, slightly panicked, all red cheeks, tousled hair.” His grin is wicked, but his touch is pure sin. “What are you looking for, Rebel?”
My eyes dart to the desk. He follows my gaze before I can control myself and walks over to it, rubbing his thumb along the carving.
“I wasn’t sure how long you felt that way about me until I came to stay here,” he admits. “I suspected, but I didn’t know for sure.”
I gulp. “That was a long time ago.”
“Four years isn’t forever, Sofia.”
“Sure, it is,” I say with a nervous chirp.
He steps towards me but circles me. I turn my head, keeping him in sight. My stomach gets warm and heavy. I lift my arms but then put them down, but they feel awkward, and I’m not sure what to do with them.
