The first rays of dawn painted the dorm room in pale gold, illuminating the tangle of limbs on Rayla’s narrow bed. Asher lay on his back, one arm curled possessively around her waist, his breathing steady but not the deep rhythm of sleep. Rayla’s head rested on his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over the scar that cut across his ribs—the one he’d told her last night came from his first shift at seven years old.
They hadn’t slept. Hadn’t spoken. Just lay there in the quiet, listening to the campus wake up outside, the truth settling between them like snowfall.
Now, with sunlight warming the sheets, Rayla finally broke the silence.
“Show me.”
Asher’s heartbeat stuttered under her ear. His fingers stilled where they’d been combing through her hair.
“Rayla…”
She pushed up onto
