I wake up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and Zeke's arm heavy across my waist.
For a moment, I don't move. Don't breathe. Just lie there feeling the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers are curled loosely against my hip bone.
This is real. Last night was real.
The thought sends equal parts warmth and terror through me.
"You're thinking too loud," Zeke mumbles against my shoulder, his voice rough with sleep.
"How can you tell I'm thinking?"
"Your whole body tenses up." He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
I turn in his arms so I can see his face. His hair is a mess, sticking up in every direction. There's a pillow crease on his cheek. He's never loo
