Awakening Desires

She didn’t budge. “You do, don’t you?” Her tone was sickeningly casual, like she was asking if I liked vanilla ice cream. “It’s the way you say his name. All soft and breathy. ‘Wyatt said this. Wyatt helped me carry the bucket. Wyatt brought me mangoes.’ Girl, please.”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My face was so hot I could’ve fried an egg on it.

“You can’t lie to me, Aria,” she went on.