Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter 29

Look—in my defense, it was his shirt. And he left it folded so perfectly on the back of that chair in the hallway. What was I supposed to do? Not wear it while making espresso at 6 a.m.?

Please.

It hung just below my thighs. Barely. And the sleeves? Too big. The collar? Loosened enough to give a sai...