Alex:
The morning light in Luke’s bedroom cuts through the blinds in thin, silvery stripes, slicing across his broad, bare chest. He’s still asleep, one arm draped heavy across my stomach like he owns me. Arrogant even in his sleep.
I should move. I really should, but instead I stay there, listening to the soft rasp of his breathing and the distant hum of a city not yet awake. The warmth of his bare body against mine is too much to resist, and he looks so peaceful when he's not giving me the death stare.
His alarm finally starts to blare, breaking the peaceful silent. Luke groans and stretches, the hard planes of his body brushing mine. “Morning, trouble,” he mutters, voice still gravel-rough.
“Morning, badge,” I shoot back, even as my pulse spikes.
He reaches for his phone, squints a
