At eighteen, Vivian feels Damian change overnight: the warmth is gone, but the nightly hot cocoa remains. She starts to believe he no longer wants her near him—until one dark night, her touch draws a sharp warning as he grips her wrist: “Vivian, don’t touch me.” Yet before she can understand it, a heated embrace finds her in the dark, then a kiss. “What are we supposed to do?”
Open