THIRTY-NINE
AlmaLeo’s arm drapes over my waist, and he pulls me closer. His bare skin is warm and silky against mine.
“Don’t leave,” he grumbles into my hair, his voice still gravelly from slumber.
“I have to. I’m scheduled to work a double today.” I trace my pointer finger over the taut skin of his muscled forearm.
In fairness, I don’t have any desire to leave Leo’s bed either. The past five days have been nothing short of incredible. We’ve only left his bed to shower or to answer the door when our food is delivered. We’ve talked, laughed, and made love for hours. Existing here in this space is my utopia; he’s my heaven on earth. My soul feels whole again. My lungs rejoice as I can finally take a full breath after months of struggling to find air. I don’t ever want to be without Leo a
