(VALENTINO'S POV)
Krystal's silhouette disappears down the driveway, her heels clicking until the sound fades into the night. For a few seconds, I just stood there on the porch, hands tucked in my pockets, lips still tingling from her kiss. There's a lazy smirk on my face I can't seem to shake.
She's trouble. Beautiful, mouthy, unpredictable trouble. And fuck if that doesn't make her ten times more addictive.
The night's quiet except for the sound of crickets and the running fountain by the courtyard. I lean against the porch railing, letting the cool air hit my face, still thinking about the way she gave our date an eight.
Not nine.
Not ten.
Eight.
Like she's deliberately leaving room for improvement—like she knows I'll come back wanting to prove her wrong.
Yeah. She's good.
Then my phone starts buzzing in my pocket, breaking the calm. I pull it out, see Leo flashing on the screen, and swipe to answer.
"Hey, Leo," I say, still half smiling. "What's up?"
