Once Callan reached my car, he thrust his hands into his pockets, slightly tilted his head to the left, and stared at me. I peered up at him and rolled down my window, rain splattering into the car and onto me.
“Can I … can I help you?” I asked.
“Get out of the car,” he said between gritted teeth.
My eyes widened at his harsh tone. Was he mad? Obviously, yes. His wife could’ve seen me spying on her, or a neighbor could’ve spotted an unusual car lingering by his property. I shouldn’t have gone to his neighborhood.
Why am I this freaking stupid?
Why am I this freaking stupid?“Sakura,” he growled. “Out. Now.”
After quickly shutting off the car, I unclasped my seat belt and scrambled out of the car. Rain poured down upon us and dripped off his wet hair. He shoved me up against my car and
