Ashtine’s POV
The sun peeked through the curtains, casting golden streaks across Rich’s penthouse. I blinked slowly, the silk sheets cool on my skin, and a deep, steady breath tickled the back of my neck.
His breath.
He was still holding me.
Wrapped in his arms, my back against his chest, it almost didn’t feel real. Like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.
“I thought you were asleep,” I murmured.
“I didn’t want to move,” Rich said quietly, voice husky from sleep and something warmer. “Didn’t want to lose this.”
He kissed my shoulder. Soft. Gentle. Like I was something fragile he promised never to break.
My heart ached—in the best and worst way.
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
He shifted slightly, brushing his lips to my temple. “Of me?”
“Of what this could be. Of… trusting you. Fu
