I wasn’t much of a dreamer after my dad left. I completely pulled the reins when my mom passed away.
So, when I woke up. Wrapped in Maxwell’s arms. My head resting on his chest. It was hard for me to recognize the possibility of fantasizing about having a future with Maxwell—waking up beside him every morning sounded wonderful.
Slowly and cautiously, I rolled away from his side. Biting my lip at the strain in my shoulder when my wound didn’t completely agree with my sudden movements. The doctor ordered me to take things slow for the next couple of days but I had to do something about these shooters who snuck up on me. It bothered me that I got sloppy with my instincts and forgot to take in my surroundings.
They could have followed us home, snuck past the guards and came in here blast
