APRIL
I wake up to the harsh sound of my phone barking at me. The noise rips me out of the best sleep I’ve had in ages. I blink in confusion, my body heavy and warm under the blankets.
Maybe it was all the drama from last night, or maybe it was just how soft and thick the covers are, but it felt like I’d fallen into the deepest kind of sleep.
And then there was the dream. I was dreaming of an Italian man with eyes like burning coals, his voice low and rough in my ear, his hands doing things that would make me blush if I thought about them too hard.
I don’t want to wake up, not when I’m still tangled in that dream, but the phone keeps ringing until it drags me out of the haze.
I groan as I reach for it, my head pounding from where I must have hit it when I shifted in my sleep. My thro
