Epilogue
One Week Later
Sean didn’t know Arliss was watching him. He had drifted off to sleep in their bed, a cup of coffee gone cold on the nightstand beside him, the half-read Windy City Times weekly newspaper still open across his chest. Sean’s mouth was slightly open, and his breath was almost—but not quite—a snore. He looked content.
Arliss smiled, tiptoeing to the foot of the bed. He loved seeing Sean like this, unconcerned, innocent, dreaming. If it wouldn’t wake him, Arliss would have moved to the head of the bed so he could brush his fingers over the stubble atop his lover’s head, stroke the smooth planes of his face, and kiss the eyelids beneath which his eyes restlessly moved back and forth.
Dreaming of me, I hope.
It was no wonder his man was asleep. Arliss had worn him ou
