Irarely sleep through the night.
Not because I can’t, but because I don’t let myself. Years of choosing alertness over comfort will do that to a man. Too many instincts honed for exits and contingencies and what comes next if the city decides to get ugly again. I wasn’t raised here; I’ve just been in and out of Crimson Bay enough to know what happens to complacent people.
Even here, in a loft we designed to be airtight in all the ways that matter, I surface every few hours out of habit.
Last night, though?
I didn’t.
I wake before Eris anyway, rested enough to notice the quiet. Sunlight creeps across the bed, catching on her bare shoulder where the sheet slipped in the night. Her mouth is parted, lashes dark against the flush of her cheeks, breathing slow and deep.
Content.
Peaceful.
I don’t feel smug about it. That surprises me more than anything. I’d expected… something. A recalibration. A warning light, maybe?
Instead, there’s only eagerness. The feeling is clean and uncomplicated.
Certainty,my mind supplies.
I get dressed quietly and leave the room, more out of courtesy than restraint. I want coffee and water… and I want to see how this lands with the guys.
Jace is already seated at the wall of monitors, shirtless, wrecking his blond hair as he stares into his mug like it personally offended him. Kieran is at the counter, doing something with protein powder that looks unnecessary on principle.
They chat idly about yesterday’s office alarm, but they both stop talking and look up when I enter.
“Well,” Jace drawls, eyebrow quirking as I move toward the cabinets. “There he is.”
Kieran glances past me, down the hall. “When we couldn’t find either of you, we, ahh… wondered if you were out.”
“Or if you guys were trying to kill each other over all the challenges and tension,” Jace adds with a poor attempt at a deadpan tone. “Or if one of you finally short-circuited and forgot how?—”
“Neither,” I cut in, and clear my throat as I grab a mug. “Neither.”
Jace’s mouth twitches. “You look… awake.”
“Good sleep,” I say, pressing the button to brew my cup of coffee.
Kieran snorts. “That’s not what he meant.”
He walks around the kitchen island and studies me for a second. “She instigated that, right?”
“Yes,” I replied with a sigh. “But I didn’t really… resist.”
“No pressure, huh?” Jace teases, covering his mouth with his fist. “Just confirming that none of us missed a memo about forced proximity.”
“She chose where she wanted to be.” I shoot him a dirty look when he laughs at me. “Okay, maybe she didn’t choose to be here without our influence, but I didn’t pressure her to sleep with me.”
Jace nods once. “Good. Just making sure you understand your book tropes. Occasionally, women speak in those. And judging by the number of books on the shelves in her apartment, she’s got a running list for us.”
Kieran’s mouth curves. “So. You fell first. That’s a trope, you know?”
“I didn’t fall,” I grumble into my steaming mug of coffee.
“Sure.” Jace grins. “You cracked the floor when you landed. It’s right over there.”
“Pretty sure that wasn’t me,” I mutter, rounding the island to sit at the table.
