I wake up to a dull ache that stretches through my whole body—in the best way possible. My sheets are half-tangled around me, and the hotel room clock glares 9:17 AM. Last night (or was it this morning?) is a hazy montage of Teddy’s lips, the headboard tapping, and the sound of my own laughter ricocheting off the walls.
I roll out of bed, every muscle whispering reminders of where I’ve been, and slip into my clothes. A quick brush of my hair, one last glance in the mirror—“Don’t scare yourself,” I murmur—and I’m out the door, gently closing it behind me.
Tyler’s tail thumps when I appear in the door of my van. He leaps into my arms like a golden cannonball of happiness. I tuck him under one arm and we head down the stairs. Outside, the morning air is crisp and salty, and he practically p
