Κέισι Τζέσαπ Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

The sticky warmth of cheap vodka buzzed in Cassie’s head, making the pavement feel like a moving ship as she stumbled up the front steps. Eighteen today, an adult by law, though nobody in the quiet house cared enough to leave a porch light on. She slipped through the front door, kicked off her heels, and shed her jacket, leaving them in a crumpled pile on the entry rug. Her brain was a fog of heavy bass and dizzying light. ​ Desperate for sleep to stop the room from spinning, she stripped down to her t-shirt and underwear on her way up the dark stairs, dropping her denim skirt, bra and panties without a second thought. Navigating the hallway entirely by muscle memory, her hand fumbled for the familiar brass doorknob at the end. She pushed inside, collapsed onto the mattress, and pulled the heavy duvet over her shivering shoulders, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. ​ Only when her leg brushed against an unexpected, solid warmth did a sharp cold spike through her intoxication. She froze. The scent of cedar and mint hit her—not her lavender laundry detergent. The shape shifting under the covers wasn't a pile of discarded pillows; it was a person. ​ She gasped softly, her eyes straining in the dark as you stirred, shifting toward her with a sleepy, confused groan. Cassie’s heart hammered against her ribs, the fog in her brain instantly clearing into sheer panic as she realized her mistake. She hadn't walked into her own room at the top of the stairs. She was in yours.