Wincing, I slapped at my phone the second the alarm went off. It took a few seconds to remember where I was.
That had been happening a lot lately.
Ever since The Incident, I’d been waking up like this—floating in a haze of pretend-normal, right before reality settled in like dust.
People who’d lost loved ones talked about it. That cruel half-second of peace, just before the remembering hit.
Even though Leo hadn’t died.
It was more like I had died—or at least the version of me that used to exist. My old life, my plans, everything I’d built?
Gone.
And for the past month, I’d relived that loss every single morning.
But this morning…
This morning was different.
My body was sore in a way that made me blush just thinking about it.
Noah Grady and I were finally having our fling.
And we’d kicked it off twice.
The first time had been fast. Raw.
Like we were both dry tinder, and when he’d walked through my door, I’d lit the match. It was needy. A little desperate.
Perfect.
The second time…
That one was slow. Lingering.
We’d turned off the lamp and then memorized each other in the dark and now I knew at least two of his ticklish spots. I knew that he loved having his back scratched.
And that he made this low sound in his throat when I kissed just below his ear.
I didn’t have to roll over or even reach across the bed to know he was gone.
And…okay.
That was fine. Totally fine.
I hadn’t expected him to stay the whole night.
Had I?
I sat up slowly, letting the cool air settle over my bare shoulders—and that’s when I noticed my PJs, neatly folded on the chair.
Which was...not where they’d landed last night.
No, they’d ended up somewhere on the floor, along with his sweatpants. And the condom wrappers.
But now everything was tidy.
He had done that—folded my clothes. Cleaned up.
