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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❝ YOU STILL OWE ME A DANCE. ❞ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
THE SHARP JOLT of a rock against the window scared Talia awake, her heart pounding in her chest. She sat up slowly, her senses on high alert. Next to her, Bella slept soundly, her breathing steady and undisturbed. Another faint clink against the glass made Talia's stomach twist with anxiety.
Could it be Laurent again?
She swung her legs off the bed, her body tense as she crept to the window. Peering out cautiously, she scanned the dimly lit front yard, her breath catching when she spotted a familiar figure standing below, a hand full of small rocks.
Embry.
Her heart skipped a beat as a wave of emotions crashed over her: anger, relief, confusion, and the sting of betrayal. It had been an entire week since she'd seen him—since the kiss that turned everything upside down. He'd vanished, avoiding her, Jacob, and Quil, leaving nothing but silence in his wake. And now here he was, throwing rocks at her window in the middle of the night.
When he noticed her, he motioned silently for her to come down.
Talia hesitated for a moment, anger bubbling in her chest. She had sent him a text at 5pm and he's showing up at 1am. He had no right to show up at this goddamn hour. But as she looked closer, the expression on his face—a mix of desperation and regret—softened something in her. Without thinking, she pulled on a sweater and grabbed the two hoodies he'd left behind, stuffing them under her arm.
She glanced at Bella one last time, ensuring she was still asleep, and carefully opened the bedroom door. Each creak of the old stairs as she descended made her cringe, but she pressed on, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floor. Reaching the front door, she took a deep breath and opened it.
There he was.
His hair, once untamed and falling down his shoulders, was cropped short, exposing the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity in his dark eyes. His shoulders were broader, his chest and arms more defined than she recalled. A tribal tattoo, dark and intricate, stretched across his left arm, a striking addition that drew her gaze longer than she intended. It made him look older, more powerful, like someone who had stepped into a new version of himself—a version she hadn't been invited to know.
He wasn't wearing much, just a pair of dark shorts and running shoes. His bare chest gleamed faintly in the porch light, the muscles in his torso taut and visibly different from the lanky Embry she thought she knew. There was something primal in his physique now, a quiet but undeniable strength that made her feel a mix of awe and something else she didn't want to name.
