It’s been weeks since I last saw Daniel before last night, and yeah—he was—is—the finest blonde-haired, blue-eyed man I’ve ever laid eyes on, but he looks like old money, while I’m over here leaking trauma from every pore.
I honestly don’t know what he sees in me otherthan my looks, my attitude, and well my best friend downstairs.
But I’m not the type to chase something I’ll probably fail at. I’d rather save myself the humiliation and pretend
I never wanted it in the first place. I’d rather fall for someone who’s just as broken as I am.
Rolling out of bed, I catch my reflection in Levy’s bathroom mirror and wince. It’s not just the smudged makeup or the wild hair—it’s my eyes. Ilooklike someone who did too much last night and knew better. I really acted like a hoe last night.
Hell, Iwasa hoe last night.
I can’t believe I pulled that shit—especially at Daniel’s house. I was basically begging for drama. And knowing him, he’ll be annoyed with hearing from me later today, but oh well.
The truth is, he’s not built for the kind of storm that my life comes with. Once he and his picture-perfect family get a real look at the weight I carry, they’ll drop me faster than they can say disgrace.
Levy shifts beneath me, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me closer until I’m flush against him. The warmth of him sinks deep, grounding in a way that almost makes me forget. Almost.
It’s not safety I feel—it’s something heavier, something that makes me forget Jacob’s betrayal, Daniel’s disappointment, and all the what-ifs I pretend don’t bother me.
Morning settles around us in silence, our breaths soft, his chest rising in an easy rhythm beneath my cheek. I feel his breaths easing into a slower beat. Curious, I glance up at him.
His deep blue eyes are cracked open, watching me. In the soft light leaking through the blinds, they look differentmorning—still sharp, but warmer, the night stripping away whatever armor he had on.
“Morning beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly from sleep.
“Morning, handsome,” I whisper back, my lips brushing his skin just enough to make him smirk.
His hand moves slow along my back, tracing lazy lines that make my skin hum. “Your eyes are even more ravishing in the morning,” he teases, a grin creeping across his face.
I roll my eyes, laughing softly. “Flattery before breakfast? You really know how to keep a girl wanting more.”
He catches my chin between his fingers, tilting my face back toward him. “I’m just appreciating the view.”
“Uh-huh,” I whisper, trying to hide the blush threatening to give me away. “That’s what they all say, and next thing you know you’re stuck with me.”
He smiles wider, and I cave—leaning in, I press my lips to his. When I pull back and settle against his chest again, the silence isn’t heavy—it’s comforting in a way that almost annoys me.
My brain—the one wired for disaster and escape routes—actually settles. No doubts, no overthinking, no he’ll ghotst-me-by-noon paranoia. Just the rare quiet of being present.
The sheets twist around us, his cologne clinging my skin like it’s got a lease. I burrow a little closer anyway, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. His voice smooth like velvet dipped in exhaustion.
I smile against his chest, tracing a pattern on his abs with my fingertips. “Just trying to soak it all in,” I say. “Feels too good to waste it on words. You’d probably ruin it with one of your cheesy lines anyway.”
He chuckles, low and rough. “I like the way you think,” he says, tilting my chin until I have to meet his gaze. “But I like your voice even more.”
I smirk. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Usually right before the compliments start sounding rehearsed.”
He raises a brow, amused. “You always this skeptical in the morning?”
“Only when I wake up in a stranger’s bed,” I say, half teasing, half honest.That earns me a smile—a real one. His hand drifts higher, thumb brushing my cheek as he studies me.
“I figured, you don’t seem like the type to do this often.” His voice dipping softer. “But I’m not just anyone—and I am glad you stayed, beautiful.”
The way he says beautiful feels different when it sounds like it’s coming from a real place.
“Careful,” I whisper, my lips curving into a grin. “Keep talking like that and I might have to start sleeping here more often.”
