38. COLD LUST.

MIA’S POV. The knock on Mr Hale’s room door reverberated like a thunderclap in the stillness of the hallway. My breath hitched, but I didn’t falter. I smoothed the silk of my dress one last time, its cool fabric brushing against my skin. It felt like a sharp contrast to the fire already curling in my veins. Before I could even lift my hand to the handle, the door swung open. And there he stood. Black shirt stretched taut over his torso. While in sweatpants that somehow seemed anything but casual and that signature dishevelled hair strands falling into his eyes in a way that felt maddeningly intentional. The scent of cedar and smoke curled around me, intoxicating and heavy, making my pulse pound in my ears. “You're early,” he murmured, a slow smirk tugging at his lips as he stepped aside. His gaze burned, so intense, assessing, pulling me into his orbit before I’d even crossed the threshold. I slipped inside and the soft click of the door sealed the two of us from the outside worl