Inside the jacket
Seraphina pushed open the booth door, just in time to hear a group of men inside discussing the brutal impact of first love.
“Your turn, Julian, we've all spilled, you can’t back out now.”
Hearing that name, Seraphina’s hand on the doorknob froze.
After a long, heavy silence, Julian took a slow sip of his drink. A moment later, a low, husky voice, laced with the burn of his drink, finally broke the quiet.
“I have her name tattooed near my heart. It’s never been removed.”
“My biker jacket has a bloodstain from our very first time together. I've kept it, always.”
