Ava woke with a start.
Her body was wrapped in warmth that wasn’t hers—heat, strength, and the unmistakable scent of Ethan Wolfe. The memory of last night crashed over her like a tidal wave: the shouting, the kiss, the way everything she swore she wouldn’t give him unraveled in a single, furious heartbeat.
Her heart lurched.
She shifted carefully, afraid to wake him, but his arm tightened around her waist.
“Don’t,” he murmured, voice low and rough from sleep.
She froze. His breath grazed the back of her neck, making her shiver.
“You’ll only hurt yourself trying to run,” he added softly.
Her throat constricted. “You shouldn’t be here.”
His lips brushed the curve of her shoulder, sending heat spiraling down her spine. “Maybe. But I am. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Ava twisted in his
