Clara's POV
I woke up with heat still lingering beneath my skin.
No matter how many times I told myself to forget last night, my body refused to cooperate. Every breath reminded me of the way that stranger's eyes dragged over me, like he was peeling back my thoughts one by one. Every movement reminded me of the way my pulse had soared too fast, too reckless, too unfamiliar.
"I swear," Kacey's voice pulled me back to reality, awwnnn ,someone is blushing.
I nearly choked on my own saliva. "Oh—oh come off it. I was just thinking."
"Mhm." She smirked knowingly, tapping her spoon against her mug. "Thinking… or remembering?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Because she wasn't entirely wrong.
Every time I blinked, I saw him again the man in the wrong restroom, the one who looked like sin sculpted into a human body. The one who made me forget my own name for a heartbeat.
And I didn't even know his.
By lunch break, the café buzzed with customers, and I am used to the chaos as an excuse to bury myself in work. But during a small quiet moment, I took out my phone and started scrolling just mindlessly looking for distraction.
Then I saw it.
Westbridge University,
Congratulations, Clara Langford! You have been accepted.
My heart launched into my throat.
For a moment, I froze. Then I squealed, actually squealed,nd nearly knocked over my drink.
"KACEYYYY!" I screamed, waving my phone in the air.
She spun around, expression wide and bright, and as soon as she read the email, she screamed louder than I did.
"Oh my God, Clara! You did it!" She threw her arms around me, almost lifting me off the floor.
Even Ellie came running from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "What's all the ,oh!" Her face lit up. "Westbridge? Really? Honey, that's incredible!"
I hadn't seen Ellie this excited in months. Her warmth settled into the hollow places inside me, the ones that grief carved out and abandoned.
Kacey was tearing up ,even though she tried so hard to hide it behind her usual tough-girl attitude. "I didn't get a chance to go to school," she muttered, hugging me again, but I'm so damn happy you will.
My heart was so gladdened "You guys… thank you."
When I got back to Mrs. Sharon's house that evening, I barely made it through the door before she rushed toward me.
"What happened? Why are you glowing like that?"
I handed her my phone.
Her gasp echoed through the living room. "Louis!" she called. "Come! Come here right now!"
Louis and his sister ran in, curious, and then they saw the screen too.
Suddenly I was surrounded ,hugged, squeezed, smothered in warmth and pride and affection I didn't think I deserved. Mrs. Sharon wiped her eyes, whispering, "You deserve happiness, sweetheart. After everything… you deserve it."
For the first time in so long, I felt like maybe she was right.
Dinner that night was loud and messy and full of jokes. Louis teased me about becoming "too smart to talk to normal people," and his sister warned me she would steal my room if I moved out for school.
It was perfect.
Painfully, beautifully perfect.
Later, lying in bed, I stared up at the ceiling and promised myself I wouldn't let this slip away.
No falling in love.
No sinking into temptation.
No letting my heart choose destruction again.
Love makes you soft.
Love makes you slow.
Love gets you killed.
I had a future now a real one. A chance to become the computer genius Dad always believed I could be.
And I wasn't going to ruin it, not a chance in hell
***********
The next morning, sunlight poured through the café windows, turning the wooden floors into gold. The smell of coffee, vanilla, and warm pastries wrapped around me like a blanket. Everything felt different brighter, lighter as if the world was finally giving me permission to breathe.
"Morning, Storm," Ellie called out when I walked in.
I laughed softly. "Still calling me that?"
"Of course. Westbridge won't know what hit them."
A small spark warmed my chest. "Maybe I'll be the kind of storm they won't see coming."
She gave me a proud smile, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine that version of me powerful, unstoppable, untouchable.
But then… the stranger from last night flashed across my mind again.
His eyes.
His voice.
The sharp command in his tone.
The way my body reacted to him as if it recognized him before my mind did.
I shoved the image away.
No distractions, No losing focus.
No dangerous men with eyes like winter storms.
Still… my heart betrayed me, skipping a beat at the memory.
I reminded myself why I couldn't afford to fall for anyone.
The tragedy.
The unanswered questions.
The detective's suspicions.
The possibility that my family's death wasn't an accident.
My future depended on discipline,on choosing ambition over desire.
I repeated that to myself as I hung my apron, stocked pastries, cleaned tables, over and over until my mind finally settled.
But that night, when I lay down under my thin blanket, exhaustion pulling at my bones, something unexpected happened.
I dreamed, Not of fire.
Not of Liam's cries.
Not of the crash, But of him.
The stranger.
Clara stirred in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains, her body heavy with the remnants of sleep. The dream had been so vivid, so consuming images of the man from the club, his strong hands gripping her hips, his mouth hot against her neck. I shifted under the sheets, feeling the slick warmth between My thighs. my pussy was soaked, aching with need that the dream had ignited but left unfulfilled. Dang I let out a soft sigh, my hand instinctively drifting down to touch myself, fingers brushing over the damp fabric of my panties.
Then I woke up,Gasping Sweating.
Panting like I had run miles.
The room was dark.
Quiet.
Still.
But my heart…
My heart was racing wildly, recklessly, dangerously.
I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to calm the storm inside me.
What was happening to me?
To be continued *****