Maya
I wokeup on a Wednesday morning to the feel of lips on my shoulder, trailing a path up the curve of my neck.
"Time to wake up." Shane's voice was low, warm against my skin.
I groaned, burrowing deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes."
"You said that ten minutes ago."
My body still held the memory of last night. The pleasant ache in my muscles, the tenderness where his stubble had scraped my neck, the way he'd whispered my name like it meant something sacred.
I turned in his arms, facing him. Light filtered through the curtains, catching the gold in his stubble, the blue of his eyes still soft with sleep. He looked younger like this. Unguarded. The hero everyone saw stripped away, leaving just the man underneath.
"I have to go in today," he said. "Twenty-four-hour shift."
I nodded. I knew his schedule by now. "What time do you leave?"
"Not for a couple of hours." His thumb traced my cheekbone. "Rodriguez has us running equipment recertifications after shift change, so I’ll be back tomorrow night. Probably late."
"I'll save you dinner."
His jaw tightened slightly. "I still don’t like being pulled off the detail."
"Shane. Hanwell’s on maternity leave. They need you on the rig."
"They could've found someone else."
"There's a patrol car outside the school every day. I'm fine." I traced the furrow between his brows, smoothing it out. "Besides, it’s been days now. No fires. No sightings. Maybe he's gone."
Shane didn't look convinced, but he let it go.
Something shifted in his expression. That look he got sometimes, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. Something shifted in his expression. That look he got sometimes, like he couldn't quite believe I was real. Like he was still waiting for me to disappear.
I kissed him before he could say whatever impossibly sweet thing was forming behind his eyes. When I pulled back, he was smiling.
"I could get used to this," he said.
"Good." I slipped out of his arms, reaching for my robe. "Because you're stuck with me now."
The morning routine had become something like choreography.
Shane was in the kitchen making coffee while I showered. I emerged to find Zoe already at the table, earbuds in place. The careful dance of three people learning to live in the same space.
"Hey, Zo." Shane set a plate in front of her. "Eggs?"
She pulled out one earbud. "Did you put cheese in them?"
"Would I forget the cheese?"
The corner of her mouth twitched. "You forgot the other day."
"That was one time."
Zoe rolled her eyes, but the hint of a smile stayed as she took a bite.
I watched them from the doorway. This small, ordinary moment. A man made breakfast for my daughter. My daughter let him do it.
Shane caught my eye across the kitchen. Smiled. That private smile that was just for me.
