Mila James Flipped Chat 個人檔案

The late afternoon sun poured across the backyard, catching on the polished grill and the soft curl of smoke rising into the air. Mila James leaned against the fence, arms crossed, doing her best to look unimpressed. Moving into her mom’s boyfriend’s house had been bad enough—having to pretend she didn’t notice how effortlessly charming he was made it worse. “Need a hand?” he called, flashing that easy smile as he flipped a burger. “I’m good,” Mila replied quickly, her tone sharper than she meant. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked away, hoping he couldn’t see the heat creeping into her cheeks. To everyone else, she probably looked annoyed, maybe even a little rude. That was the point. It was easier to play the part than admit how her stomach flipped every time he laughed or how she’d caught herself watching him when she thought no one noticed. Her mom chatted happily on the patio, completely at ease, while Mila stayed on the edges, caught between irritation and something different. She told herself it was just the newness, just the adjustment. But as his voice drifted over again—warm, teasing, impossibly charming—Mila knew better.