Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 149

The night breeze was crisp and cool, but Lennon's palm felt feverishly warm in Seren's grasp.

Lennon led her forward through the quiet street, her mind still reeling with everything that had just happened. Out of sight, out of mind—now that Sheridan was gone, she could finally breathe. Yet, she couldn't help reliving the memory of Lennon's searing kiss, the force and heat of it, which made her cheeks flush and her heart pound all over again.

When they reached the car, Lennon, ever the gentleman, opened the passenger door for her. As Seren ducked her head to get in, she noticed his knuckles were tinged red. She hesitated, then reached out and gently took his hand.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, looking up at him.

She knew Sheridan had clearly lost the confrontation, but seeing the redness made her worry all the same.

Lennon just smiled, lifting his hand to brush her nose with his fingertip. "Silly girl. I'm the one who hit him. If anyone's hurting, it's Sheridan—not me."

His tone was light, the smile in his eyes soft and warm, matching the gentle caress of the evening breeze.

He'd always addressed her formally as Mrs. Crestwell. Hearing him call her "silly girl" now—so familiar and affectionate—sent a strange rush through her, something she couldn't quite put into words. Seren felt her breath catch, her pulse skipping.

Lennon's gaze grew more intense, as if for a moment he wanted nothing more than to gather her close. But instead, he simply said, "Come on. Let's get back to the hotel."

Better not to linger here any longer.

Twenty minutes later, they were back in their hotel room. Seren quickly changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up. Lennon switched off the lights and joined her.

The room fell into a peaceful hush, broken only by the faint, rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the distant shore—a soothing, comforting backdrop.

Seren lay stiffly near the edge of the bed, her body tense. She had just closed her eyes when she heard the quiet rustle of movement beside her.

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