Adrienne flipped over and over on the bed, the sheets twisting around her legs as sleep stubbornly refused to come. When that failed, she stared up at the ceiling, tracing the faint shadows cast by the curtains as the night light shifted outside. But even that did nothing to quiet her thoughts.
With a frustrated breath, she turned onto her side and looked at Lorenzo.
He was fast asleep beside her, chest rising and falling evenly, his face unguarded in a way she rarely saw when he was awake. There was no tension in his jaw, no calculation behind his eyes, just peace.
She frowned at him.
How could he sleep like this? As if nothing monumental had been dropped on her lap hours ago. As if he hadn’t just told her—told her so casually—that he was willing to share her.
Share her.
The word ec
