Lying next to Cain, I traced lazy circles on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
His warmth anchored me in a way nothing else could, and I let myself get lost in the calm of the moment.
But even as I reveled in his presence, I couldn’t ignore the tension rolling off him. It wasn’t obvious—not to someone who didn’t know him the way I did.
But I could see it in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his hand occasionally clenched into a fist, and the distant look in his eyes.
He was thinking about something, something he didn’t want to share.
I had learned not to push, but tonight, it was hard not to wonder what could have him so on edge.
Before I could decide whether to ask, a sharp knock echoed through the apartment.
Cain stiffened beside me, his body go
