Chapter 5

The jukebox in the corner had been playing a slow, crooning Elvis track for the last ten minutes, a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the soles of my heels and up into my calves. It was 2:14 AM, the hour when the world outside the diner’s fogged-up windows had dissolved into a blur of rain-slicked asphalt and streetlights, but inside, time felt suspended in amber. We had managed to find our way to the semi-private booth in the back, tucked away behind a stack of empty pie tins and the faint smell of old coffee and lemon polish. The vinyl seat was cool against my thighs, but the heat radiating from him was enough to make my skin prickle. He hadn’t said much since we’d slid into the booth, just watched me with those dark, heavy-lidded eyes, his thumb tracing the rim of his mug as if waiting for me to make the first move. I knew he was waiting. I could feel it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his breathing slowed just enough to be noticeable. I didn’t want to wait anymore. The tension that had been coiling in my belly all night, since