Ayla
“Are you feeling better?”
Rhett opened his eyes just as I tried to lift his arm off my waist. I blinked at him in confusion.
“You’re the one who was sick, not me,” I said flatly.
He gave me a small smile, and something about it felt suspicious.
“You’re the one who had a nightmare, not me.”
I froze. Oh, so he heard me. His hand suddenly reached out and patted my head gently.
“I even had to lull a big girl to sleep last night.”
I scoffed, pretending not to care even though my cheeks were burning.
“Where are Mom and Papa?”
“Venice. They told me to look after you before they left yesterday.”
Of course they did. Rhett always acted like the responsible one every time my parents were away. I got out of bed, glancing at him quickly—there were no signs he remembered anything else fr
