I wake to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and the warm weight of an arm across my waist.
For a moment, I don't remember where I am. Then it all comes rushing back- Zeke's studio, his paintings, the way he looked at me like I was something precious. The way I let him touch me, the way I touched him back.
The way I stayed.
My heart starts racing, but not from panic. From the reality of what I've done, what we've done. I slept with Ezekiel Weston. The boy who made my childhood a nightmare. The man who's been trying to make amends.
The person who made me feel more alive last night than I have in years.
"You're thinking too loud," Zeke murmurs against my shoulder, his voice rough with sleep.
I turn in his arms to face him. His hair is a mess, there's a crease on his cheek fr
