And I need to get back to the house and slip into Connor’s room before they come looking for me.
Because the last thing anyone needs right now is a bright, innocent voice asking, Why are you and Princess Luna naked?
I roll onto my side and steal one last look at Harrison Evans, stretched out and devastating, like some fallen warrior god who wandered out of the woods just to ruin me.
Or at least my vagina.
Which he absolutely did.
Honestly, I would have snuck out half an hour ago, but I wasn’t confident I could physically walk.
There’s also the smallest, most inconvenient chance that I am enjoying the view.
I take inventory. Sculpted pecs. Abs that feel illegal. A dusting of dark hair that disappears beneath the blanket like an engraved invitation. Or a warning.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Why can I not have a life like this?
A beautiful world where everything fits. A gorgeous man. Three incredible kids. A kick-ass career that actually means something. A life that feels full instead of carefully curated.
And how about sex more often than once every leap year.
The kind that leaves you breathless and undone and wondering how you ever went without.
The kind Harrison gift wraps and delivers. Every damn time.
Seriously, is that really too much to ask?
I open my eyes again, tamping back the fantasy and settling into the unforgiving truth.
Our one night is over.
I blow out a breath and look over at him one last time, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. Steady. Unbothered.
Settled.
How can he sleep this peacefully?
Meanwhile, my anxiety has climbed to that suspended moment at the top of a roller coaster, when everything goes quiet right before you fall.
And with Harrison, I will fall.
I don’t have a choice.
I feel the man everywhere. Invisible threads pull tight, tugging at every heartstring.
And if I’m going to leave, it has to be now.
Determined, I slip off the chaise and get dressed. Then I take a breath and really look at myself.
The borrowed T-shirt. The flannel. The absurdly rolled sweatpants.
Have I become Mrs. Lumberjack?
You wish.
I reach for the coat, and Harrison’s phone slides off the chaise and hits the floor.
