"Stay," she whispered.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
I tightened my arms around her.
"I promise."
I woke to sunlight and warmth and the familiar scent of Maya’s shampoo.
She was still asleep, curled into my side like she belonged there. Her hair was a disaster, tangled from my hands, and there was a mark on her shoulder that I didn't remember making but didn't regret.
I watched her breathe. In, out. The flutter of her lashes. The small furrow between her brows that appeared even in sleep.
I'd woken up next to women before. More times than I was proud of. But it had never felt like this—settled, grounded, like the world had finally clicked into place.
I was in love with her.
I didn’t know exactly when it started. Maybe in the teacher’s lounge… Maybe that first dinner… Maybe it was all the moments in between, stacking up so quietly I hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
All I knew was that I was. Completely. Irrevocably.
Maya stirred. She blinked awake, saw me watching her, and smiled, soft and sleepy.
"Morning."
"Morning." I kissed her forehead. "Sleep okay?"
"Better than okay." She stretched against me. "You?"
"Best night's sleep I've had in years."
She laughed quietly. Buried her face in my chest. "Liar. Neither of us got much sleep."
"Okay, fine. Best night I've had in years." I pulled her closer. "Better?"
"Much."
We lay there for a few minutes, tangled together, not talking. I ran my fingers through her hair, working out the tangles I'd put there. She traced patterns on my chest with her fingertip.
Then Zoe's door opened.
Maya's whole body went tense.
"She's going to figure it out," I said.
"I know. I just?—"
"We don't have to hide. Unless you want to."
She looked at me. Took a breath. "No. No hiding."
By the time we made it to the kitchen, Zoe was already there, pouring cereal into a bowl. She was in pajamas, her hair a wild nest, and when she saw us emerge together, she rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't stick.
"Finally," she said.
Maya blinked. "Excuse me?"
