After an awkward evening filled with more Call of Duty and absolutely zero touching, we went to bed.
The soft tone of my alarm woke me up at 2 AM.
I expected Merrick would sleep through it, and I was right. The man slept like the dead. What I didn’t expect was that I’d wake up in his arms again.
When I’d gone to bed in his room, I’d locked the door—and blocked it off with my suitcase, so the clattering would wake me up if his pheromones drew me out or something.
But the pheromones hadn’t been needed. I woke up twenty minutes after falling asleep and with absolutely zero common sense, I’d gotten up, carefully moved the suitcase off to the side of the door, and slid onto the couch with Merrick. And of course, he wrapped his arms around me without a damn question.
With my alarm’s quiet
