The light came first.
It seeped through the high glass windows in a thin, golden sheen that cut across the room like a blade. Dust floated in it, soft motes suspended as though time had slowed just for this morning. The air smelled faintly of s*x, of sweat dried into cotton, of skin cooling after fire.
Amber stirred, her lashes fluttering open against the brightness. For a heartbeat, she didn’t know where she was. The ceiling was too high, the sheets too smooth, the silence too heavy.
Then it hit her.
Not her own bed. His.
Ryan’s room.
Her stomach tightened, a quick cinch of nerves pulling taut. She shifted slightly on the mattress and felt it... the undeniable warmth still beside her, a presence that hadn’t left. Her eyes widened. She hadn’t gone back to her own room last night. She
