Morning arrived quietly, slipping into the penthouse like it didn’t want to disturb whatever fragile balance had settled between us overnight. Soft light filtered through the tall glass windows, painting the living room in pale gold and muted shadows. I woke slowly again, not startled this time, not disoriented. Just… aware.
Aware of the faint hum of the city far below.
Aware of the unfamiliar comfort of this place.
Aware—most dangerously—of Asher.
The couch was empty when I opened my eyes.
For a split second, panic flickered in my chest, sharp and instinctive, but it faded just as quickly when I heard movement from the kitchen. The low clink of ceramic, the soft hiss of something heating, the unmistakable presence of another person going about a morning routine that didn’t involve co
