He sighs, forehead resting against mine. There’s a slight shimmer in his eyes—wet, but not quite tears. “Seeing you gethit… that was the worst day of my life. I didn’t know if you were going to make it. Joking about it hits me wrong.”
“I get it. If I could erase that moment from your memory, I would. But Colt, I’m here. I’m alive. I’m healthy. I’m happy. And I’m not going anywhere. You have me, from now until forever.”
He closes his eyes and exhales through his nose, like he’s forcing the emotion down before it consumes him. “Okay,” he whispers. “Just… promise me no more bad jokes about it?”
“Promise.”
I lean in for a kiss, but he pulls back.
I blink. “What now?”
He smirks, his hand sliding back down to my boob. “Also, I’d like to formally request that every morning, I wake up with your tit in my hand.”
I burst out laughing and then instantly wince, clutching my temples. “Ow! Dammit!”
We both groan and raise our hands to our heads in unison.
“No more loud noises,” he mutters, and I nod through the pain.
“I second that. But I think people are awake downstairs. We probably need to get up, show our faces, and maybe apologize for being antisocial sex hermits last night.”
He nods, then grunts as he sits up. “Remind me again why we didn’t cancel the parties?”
I swing my legs out of bed with a sigh. “I don’t know. I should’ve listened to you.”
“Damn right, you stubborn woman,” he teases, heading to the walk-in closet.
I catch sight of the scratches on his back—red, raw, and definitely mine.
Oops.
“Babe, does your back hurt?”
He glances over his shoulder, stretching. “A little itchy, I guess. Why?”
I saunter in behind him, admiring my handiwork. “No reason.” Internally, I giggle.
I fish out some underwear, wincing as my body protests with every bend and movement. Between the hangover and the Colt Olympics last night, everything hurts. I throw on a bra and a flowy dress that requires zero effort.
Colt pulls on a pair of jeans but skips the shirt.
I arch a brow. “You’re going down like that?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. Just… don’t be surprised when the guys start teasing you.”
He grins like he knows exactly what I mean. “Let ’em. They’ve seen me shirtless before. Besides, I’m sure your mum and the other ladies won’t mind the view.”
I shake my head, biting back a smirk.Arrogant arsehole.
He grabs my hand, leading me toward the door. He pauses, staring down at the pillow on the floor, then looks at me with a raised brow.
“I got mad after you left me all hot and bothered,” I admit with a shrug.
He laughs and guides me out the door.
The house is buzzing now with voices, laughter, and clanging pans. When we reach the kitchen, both our mums are at the stove, frying up bacon and eggs like the domestic goddesses they are.
