The water bottle had rolled off the nightstand onto the floor. He picked it up and set it back within her reach.
As he turned, she shifted in her sleep, her hand catching in his shirt.
He stilled. Didn't breathe.
He covered her hand with his, gave it a small squeeze.
She didn't respond.
Still asleep.
He started easing her fingers loose.
Her grip tightened. She pulled him closer, dragging him down with the fabric bunched in her fist.
"Stop hovering," she murmured, eyes still closed, irritated in that half-conscious way. Another tug. "Just come here."
He exhaled and moved to the bed, still holding her hand, forcing him to reach awkwardly across her to set his phone on the nightstand. He slid under the duvet, leaving space.
She tugged his arm as he settled and rolled into him before he'd even finished adjusting. Her leg slid over his thigh, forehead against his collarbone. She placed their joined hands against his chest and went still.
He adjusted around her, his free arm settling at her waist. Her breathing deepened. The weight of her settled fully against him, and the tension he’d been holding for a long time... let go.
In the dark, with no one watching and nothing to perform, Liam let himself smile.
He'd spent three years watching, making no choices, calling it restraint. Today he'd made the opposite choices—confessed in a car, touched her in a boutique, knelt in front of witnesses.
He stood by every one of them.
A strand of hair had fallen across her face. His hand moved to brush it back, then stopped, hand clenching.
Don't think about morning.
The door creaked. Liam turned his head as Mateo rounded the other side of the bed, barefoot, half-asleep already. He lifted the duvet and climbed in behind April, one arm draping over her waist, face pressing into her hair like this was simply where he was meant to be.
April exhaled and went boneless between them, her weight settling into sleep.
Liam closed his eyes and went with her, the smile still on his lips.
April
APRIL WOKE UP in a bed she didn't recognize.
Golden sun streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, and for a disorienting moment she had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten here.
Then she registered the warmth beneath her cheek. The steady rise and fall of breathing. The arm wrapped around her waist.
She was lying on top of someone.
Not beside someone. On top of someone, like a very heavy blanket that had gained sentience.
April blinked, lifted her head a fraction.
Mateo.
He was awake. Watching her with warm eyes and a smile, like this was the most normal morning in the world.
"Good morning, Bellissima."
