"Well, well, well!"
Lela's teasing voice made me freeze mid-step. The floor creaked under my bare feet, betraying my attempt to sneak in unnoticed. I had tiptoed inside, hoping to slide straight to my room after another night at Red's, but there she was—waiting like a guard dog, arms folded, eyes sharp with mischief.
My face turned scarlet.
"Good morning, Des," she said, her grin wide and merciless. "At this point, you might as well admit it—you practically live with your hot boyfriend now."
I groaned, covering my face with my hands as if that could hide the truth. My bag slid off my shoulder and hit the floor with a soft thud. "Lela, please. Don't start."
She leaned back against the couch cushions, utterly pleased with herself. "Oh, I've already started. And don't bother denying it. Look at you—you're glowing. And don't tell me it's the moisturizer. That's the look of a woman who's in love."
