CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Mia barely heard a word Dave was saying.

Her mind was still stuck in him.

Marco Valentino.

That look in his eyes.

Those words.

Mine.

She shivered — except it wasn’t from the cold.

It was from the way her body remembered the heat of his presence even after he was gone.

Get a grip, Mia.

Dave was still rambling awkwardly beside her, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was about to get whacked in broad daylight.

“…seriously, Mia. That guy’s intense. Like, mafia movie final boss level intense.”

She almost laughed.

If only he knew.

But all she managed was a small, exhausted smile.

“I’m fine, Dave.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure he wanted to rip my head off.”

Mia sighed. “He didn’t.”

“Not yet,” Dave mumbled under his breath.

That actually made her chuckle.

Soft. Tired. But real.