What the hell did you do?
That’s my last thought before sleep finally takes me.
4
TALIA
Morning After
My first conscious thought is that I’m warm.
Not normal warm. Not blanket warm. Human warm.
Very large, very solid, very naked human warm.
My second conscious thought is that my face is pressed against what feels like a concrete wall that somehow breathes.
My third conscious thought is:Oh my God, I’m naked.
My eyes snap open.
Sunlight pours through floor-to-ceiling windows, blinding and unapologetic. It turns everything gold and sharp and far too real.
My brain throbs immediately, a dull, rhythmic pounding behind my temples like someone is testing a jackhammer inside my skull.
I don’t move at first.
I don’t breathe.
Because I’m afraid if I do, whatever nightmare this is will notice me and get worse.
Slowly, cautiously, I look down.
Tan skin. Muscles. A male arm the size of my thigh wrapped loosely around my waist.
My stomach drops straight through the couch.
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
I turn my head.
Very carefully. Very slowly.
And I find myself face-to-face with a sleeping Greek god.
Dark hair. Stubble. Strong jaw. Lips slightly parted in sleep. Broad shoulders disappearing beneath a blanket that is definitely not covering nearly enough.
I stare at him.
He doesn’t move.
He just keeps breathing. Calm. Unbothered. Like this happens to him all the time.
Which—honestly—it probably does.
My brain scrambles, trying to catch up with my life.
