June’s Point of View
The first thing that stirred me from sleep wasn’t the sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtains or the sound of crashing waves beyond the balcony.
It was the aroma.
The warm, comforting scent of buttery waffles, fresh-cut tropical fruits, and the rich, almost sinful smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room like a soft whisper coaxing me awake. And beneath it all, there was the faintest trace of something even sweeter—his cologne, and the unmistakable warmth of him beside me.
I blinked my eyes open, adjusting to the morning light—and there he was.
Dos.
Leaning over me with a boyish grin tugging at his lips and his hair slightly tousled, like he’d been up for a while but didn’t want to wake me yet.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said in that low, velvety
