I wake to heat and weight and the slow rise and fall of someone else’s breathing. For a second I don’t remember where I am. The sheets are warm, my cheek is on a bare chest, and a hand is resting heavy at my hip like it belongs there. The room is dim with early light. The window is a pale square. Everything is quiet except his heartbeat under my ear.
Viktor.
Memory hits in a rush and my body answers before my mind can. Heat slides through me, a full-body echo. I squeeze my eyes shut. For a breath, I let the comfort sit. It feels easy. Safe. Like I could stay right here and let the world take care of itself.
Then the thought terrifies me.
I don’t hand anyone the kind of power I handed him last night.
Stupid. Reckless.
I slip my hand under his and lift it inch by inch. He doesn’t stir.
