The Morning came in pale and quiet.
The storm was gone. The air smelled like wet earth and cedar. Somewhere outside, Noah was shouting about the generator and a chainsaw.
I woke up with Liam’s arm around me.
We were still tangled in the blanket on the narrow bed. His chest rose and fell against my back, steady and warm. For a second, I let myself pretend last night hadn’t happened.
Then I remembered.
I moved first. Slowly, so I didn’t wake him.
His arm tightened for a second before he let go.
“Morning,” he said. His voice was rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I said back.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair. The Light filtered through the cabin windows, soft and gray.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “You?”
“Yeah.”
He looked at me like he was c
