•Penelope•
Something was off.
I rolled over, eyes fluttering open. Wait, why was I in a room? And on a bed?
I pushed myself up, heart picking up speed. How did I even get here?
I could’ve sworn I was still on the plane a few minutes ago.
Then it hit me, Miguel’s lap. Oh goodness gracious. I’d actually fallen asleep on his chest.
The memory of our conversation shoved its way to the front of my brain, and I pushed it back down before I could combust from secondhand embarrassment.
What on earth had I been thinking?
Fine. I could accept that I’d slept there. But that still didn’t explain waking up here.
The door swung open, and Miguel walked in wearing a different shirt, unbuttoned enough to show the hard lines of his chest.
My pulse jumped like it had no manners.
How can a man his
