The soft sound of rain woke me before the sun did. The window in Asher’s room was cracked open, and the cool scent of wet pine drifted in. His arm was heavy across my waist, his breathing slow and steady. For a long moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine and the thrum of his heartbeat under my palm. It felt safe—too safe.
“Asher.” I whispered.
His eyes blinked open, still sleepy, but alert the second he saw my face. “Morning.” he murmured, his voice rough and warm.
“Morning.” I shifted closer, brushing my fingers against his jaw. “We have a long day ahead.”
He sighed softly and kissed my forehead. “I know.” He pushed himself up on one elbow, the muscles in his arm flexing as he stretched. “Do you feel it?”
“What?” I sat up too, pu
