And his arm?
It’s still wrapped tightly around my back, his hand splayed over my ribs like he never once thought about letting go.
I freeze, heart skittering against my ribs.
Not because I’m afraid.
But because it feels so natural.
Like I belong here. Like I’ve always belonged here.
I lift my head slightly, careful not to wake him.
He’s still asleep, his face relaxed in a way I rarely get to see. No teasing smirk, no stubborn tension in his jaw. Just Liam. Soft and open. And beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache.
I bite my lip, feeling something dangerous and undeniable unfurl low and slow inside me.
Something that whispers that this could be more.
As if sensing my gaze, Liam shifts, his arm tightening around me, pulling me closer. His forehead brushes against my hair, a sleepy murmur escaping his lips.
“Honey…”
Just that one word.
My heart does a slow, aching flip.
I tip my head back just enough to see him, my hand still pressed against his chest, his against my back.
His eyes are heavy-lidded, unfocused, his hair a rumpled mess that makes him look heartbreakingly young.
“Hey,” I whisper.
For a moment, we just lie there, staring at each other, suspended in the soft, fragile quiet of morning. Neither of us moves to pull away.
He blinks slowly, his thumb starting a lazy, absentminded stroke against the side of my ribs. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like touching me is as natural as breathing.
“You sleep okay?” he murmurs.
I nod. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”
A small, sleepy smile tugs at his mouth. “’Course.”
His hand drifts a little, palm flattening against the curve of my back, grounding me there.
I should move.
I should untangle myself.
But instead, I shift even closer, tucking my forehead against the curve of his throat, breathing in the scent of soap, the faint leather and cedar of his skin, the warmth of home.
Because that’s what he feels like.
Home.
Liam presses a kiss on the top of my head. It’s barely a brush, so light it almost doesn’t register, but it does. It sinks into my skin, into my bones, into all the places that have been hollow for so long.
He lets out a slow breath, his voice barely a whisper when he says, “Could get used to waking up like this.”
