Draven Monticello
5 a.m.
I woke up with my hand wrapped around her soft, bare body, the warmth of her skin still lingering against mine.
For a brief moment, my mind was in disarray—brows furrowing, gaze flickering to the ceiling as reality set in.
What am I doing? Why am I here with this woman?
I turned my head toward her, watching as she slept soundly, her glasses missing from her face. The early morning sunlight kissed her skin, casting a golden glow over her, making her look almost ethereal.
And then it hit me.
The memories of last night flooded my mind—every whispered word, every shaky breath, every moan that fell from her lips. The way our bodies fit perfectly, as if they were meant to find each other in this moment. And then, the realization struck like a lightning bolt.
It w
