ASHLEY
Sleep was never going to come easy after what I did. What we did.
Beckett’s body is curled around mine and I am not complaining.His hand is low on my stomach—dangerously low—and all I can think about is whether something inside me is already shifting. Whether it worked. Whether I let him win.
My chest tightens.
I told him to get me pregnant. I said it. Me. Ashley Brooke.
I shift carefully, dragging my leg out from under his, trying not to wake him. My thighs ache, my skin’s sticky where his touch branded me, and my chest… my chest’s a mess of guilt and need and some sick, needy hope.
I check the clock. f**k. I was supposed to be up ten minutes ago.
Beckett stirs behind me, tightening his arm like his subconscious is already calling me out. “Going somewhere?”
“Class,” I mut
