Justin's POV:
The kettle beeped, snapping the tension in the air—barely.
I turned back to the counter, forcing myself to focus as I poured two cups of coffee. Something to do with my hands. Something to keep me from looking at her.
But I could still feel her eyes on me.
She took the cup when I handed it to her, fingers grazing mine. A quick touch—nothing intentional. But I felt it everywhere.
"Thanks," she murmured, bringing the cup to her lips.
I forced myself to do the same, taking a sip, letting the heat burn my tongue—a welcome distraction.
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I could hear the quiet hum of the fridge, the faint tick of the clock on the wall. But mostly, I was aware of her.
Standing there in my shirt, drinking coffee like she hadn't just turned my entire world upside down. Like she hadn't just spent the night in my bed—like I hadn't spent the last few minutes fighting every urge to drag her back to it.
