Just firm, like a seatbelt clicking into place.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low and rough, like he hadn’t fully surfaced yet.
I froze.
His eyes were still closed.
“You’re awake,” I whispered.
“Mm,” he murmured, tightening his hold again like he was making sure I stayed put. “Barely.”
I tipped my head back just enough to look up at him. His face was relaxed in sleep, stubble shadowing his jaw, and his hair slightly mussed. He looked… softer like this. Not less dangerous. Just less armored.
“Do you know you’re in my bed?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, eyes still closed. “Should be. That’s where I fell asleep.”
I blinked again. “That’s… not where you fell asleep.”
That got one of his eyes to open slightly, like he was amused. “Yeah?”
“The last thing I remember,” I said slowly, trying to pull the foggy edges of last night into focus, “is you staying. And you were on the couch. Like… you said you would.”
His mouth twitched. “I was.”
“So how did you—”
“I heard you,” he said, and his eyes opened fully now, locking on mine. Alert. Present. “You were having a bad dream.”
My stomach tightened. “I was?”
“Yeah,” he said, voice calm. “You were moving around, breathing hard. Talking.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Oh my God.”
“It’s fine,” he said immediately, like he could read the embarrassment trying to claw its way up my throat. “I came in and tried to wake you.”
“And?”
His expression softened, just a fraction. “You wrapped your arms around me and wouldn’t let go.”
My face got hotter. “I did not.”
“You did,” he said, tone steady and certain, like he was stating facts about weather. “You mumbled something I couldn’t make out. Then you clung to me like I was the only thing keeping you on the planet.”
I stared at him.
He didn’t look smug. He didn’t tease.
He looked… matter-of-fact.
Like it had been an obvious choice.
“So you just…” I waved vaguely. “Climbed into bed with me?”
He shrugged, his arm tightening again like he was proving he still could. “You weren’t letting go. I wasn’t going to peel you off me and toss you back onto the pillow like you were a problem.”
That hit something deep in my chest. I swallowed. “That tracks,” I admitted quietly. “Because… I sleepwalk.”
