CIARA
I had been having a good day.
Until five minutes ago.
When I woke up earlier today, my goal had been to finish the painting I had abandoned for weeks, suddenly overcome with inspiration to get it done.
As it was with me whenever I got engrossed in something, I had lost all track of time. But when my stomach rumbled for what seemed like the gazillionth time, I decided to come down to the kitchen for a quick snack.
Only to come face to face with the Devil.
Noah White.
My heart started to pound in my chest. What was he doing here? Noah was my brother's best friend, the son of my mother's best friend, and apparently, what seemed to be a permanent fixture in my life.
He looked as beautiful as always, with his perfect jaw and his…
Scratch that.
What the hell was I doing?
I was supposed to hate him.
Okay. Maybe not hate. Hate was a very strong word.
I was supposed to aggressively dislike him. Noah was the number one tormentor in my childhood.
