"Too close." But he's grinning in the darkness.
"I should go back."
"Not yet." His arms tighten around me. "Just a few more minutes."
"Ryder—"
"Please. I'm not ready to let you go yet."
I should argue. Should insist on leaving now while it's safe. But his bed is warm and I'm boneless with satisfaction and the risk feels worth it.
"Ten minutes," I say.
"Deal."
But ten minutes turns to twenty, and twenty to thirty, and somewhere in the warmth of his arms, I drift off without meaning to.
***
Something wakes me. A sound. Movement.
I open my eyes to predawn gray. Ryder's arm is heavy across my waist. I'm still in his bed.
Panic flares. I slept through the night. I was supposed to go back.
Then I hear it again—footsteps in the hallway.
The door handle turns.
I have exactly two seconds to react. I roll off the far side of the bed, taking the blanket with me, and drop to the floor. The carpet muffles my landing, but barely. I press myself flat, heart hammering so hard I'm sure everyone can hear it.
The door cracks open.
"Ryder?" Connor's voice. "You awake?"
I hold my breath. Don't move. Don't even blink.
Ryder makes a groggy sound. "What?"
"Did you hear something?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know. A thump. Thought it came from your room."
"Probably just the house settling. Go back to bed."
Silence. Connor's considering. I can practically hear him thinking.
Then: "Yeah. Okay. Sorry."
The door closes.
I stay frozen on the floor, blanket wrapped around my naked body, until Ryder's hand appears over the edge of the bed.
"Coast is clear," he whispers.
I take his hand and let him pull me up. We stare at each other in the dim light, both of us wide-eyed with panic and adrenaline.
