26
It was just after three o’clock when Brooke first woke up. The room’s heater must’ve been left on the hotel’s default setting. Too high. She’d taken her bra off in the bathroom before going to bed and slipped out of her long pants once under the covers, but she was still too warm. Rising on an elbow, she could see Dylan on the far side of the bed, nearly hanging off the edge. Keeping his distance.
Clay, she decided. She lay back and tried to imagine a cool breeze.
The dawn light was leaking around the curtains when she awoke again. Hotel curtains never fit right. It was still hot, too.
Dylan had rolled over in the night and a trace of his breath ruffled the hairs of her arm. He lay in an arc parallel to her, his own arm only a couple of inches away. His face was strong and peaceful.
