Phoenix:
The morning light crept in through the blinds like it was tiptoeing around the wreckage of the night before.
I was awake before him. Barely. Ryder’s arm was locked tight around my waist, his body heat like armor around me. His breath stirred the baby hairs along the back of my neck. Steady. Calm. A lullaby after the war.
I didn’t move. I didn’t want to move.
Because here… wrapped in him… I felt safe.
Not the kind of safe you pretend to be. Not the kind that comes with locked doors or tough talk or learning to take a hit and shake it off. But real safety. The kind that comes from being seen and still wanted. From being held like you’re someone’s whole world—even when you feel like a cracked-up mess of old scars and newer ones you’re still trying to hide.
Last night, I’d shatt
