Every damn dessert.
I can already envision waking up every morning like this. With her. Her smell. Her sleepy voice. Her perfect body burrowed into mine.
“I don’t want to miss the last class.”
Her words hit me. She’s coming.
Thank God.
Vanilla scones are on the menu. The second that smell hits, I’ll think of her. It’s been a long time since I’ve ruined dishes before, but I wouldn’t put it past me to burn the whole kitchen down, distracted by the scent. Distracted by the picture of her curled up next to me, just like this moment.
“I don’t want you to miss the last class.”
She giggles, a soft half-laugh and half-yawn. “But it’s so early to be awake.”
The morning sun shines through the window, glistening off the curve of her shoulder.
“Seems we’re not the only ones awake.” She rubs her leg against my morning wood.
Heat and friction spark through me.
“You,” I growl, wrapping my arms around her and rolling on top of her.
That damn scent hits me full-force.
She squeals in delight and laughter, and I want never to forget the sound. The bed dips and springs under us.
She presses her hands against my chest as I pin her to the bed. Her eyes grow soft, and her smile fades. I feel the rise and fall of her breathing.
“I’m going to miss this.”
I press closer. Her warmth presses back into me.
My chest tightens.
I finally nod. “Me too.”
I nuzzle my nose against hers. I’d worry about morning breath, but we barely slept—just drifted in and out of each other all night.
Her fingers absently play with my chest. Each brush makes my pulse spike.
“I’m going to miss you.”
I suck in a breath. My throat is tight.
“I want to ask you to come with me,” I admit. “Forget your plans and come home with me, but I can’t.”
Her quiet exhale brushes my lips, and her eyes flicker. Her thumb traces the center of my chest like she’s storing away every part of me.
“I know.”
“You have to do this for yourself, and I know that, but I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”
Every nerve in my body is keyed to her. Her warmth, the curve of her shoulder, the light in her eyes. It all pulls at me.
We live on opposite sides of the country. Too many miles. Too many real-life things. I’d never ask her to leave it all for me.
God, I want to anyway. I want everything.
