ZOE
I woke up to the soft groan of the morning light creeping through the blinds and the warmth of someone definitely not being a pillow behind me. My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I noticed was the weight of Vaughn’s arm draped across my waist, holding me against him like I was some kind of personal teddy bear.
Oh. God.
I squinted at the clock—10:45 AM. A bit too early for a Saturday hangover, but not early enough to make it feel like we’d been responsible adults last night. But then again, I didn’t feel that responsible when Vaughn’s warm body was pressed against mine, making me forget why I shouldn’t enjoy it.
Vaughn let out a deep, sleepy sigh behind me, and I tensed when I realized he wasn’t just sleeping anymore. Nope. He was holding me like I was the last slice of pi
