“I’m thirty years old, El.” Zain’s shoulders sagged as he raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent night after night at this club, watching the same scene play out over and over again. I’m tired. I want more.” More. A simple, terrifying four-letter word. She couldn’t give him more. This son of a bitch. They’d agreed. Years ago, they’d agreed. Fuck him for changing the rules. Fuck him for making her fall in love.
whyyy is she being an absolute idiot?
