Matthew didn’t set an alarm.
Ava knew because she woke before him and the room was still dim, the curtains breathing softly with the morning air, and he was still there.
Gw wasn't dressed. He was on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other resting across the mattress like he’d reached for her in his sleep and never quite found her.
She lay on her side and watched him.
She traced the line of his shoulder with her eyes. The scar near his collarbone. The faint crease between his brows even in sleep.
He stirred. His hand moved, brushing her waist.
“You’re staring again,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.
Ava didn’t pretend. “You didn’t set your alarm.”
He opened one eye, then the other. “I’m not going to work.”
She blinked. “Are you sick?”
He huffed softly. “Do I look si
