Clara:Oh come on! Hannah is chronically single and Emma and I are long-time married. Let us live vicariously through you.
Hannah:Hey! Less of the chronically. Although… True.
Clara: Scale of one to ten how ruined are you?
Freya:Let’s just say… I slept very well.
The chat erupts again. But I ignore it before they can start interrogating me properly. Because right now… I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else. I set my phone down quietly and turn back toward him. His arm is still draped across me. My fingers move almost without thinking, tracing lightly across the skin of his chest. He shifts slightly at the touch, his brow furrowing before his eyes slowly open. For a second he looks confused. Then he sees me and a slow, lazy smile spreads across his face.
“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
I swallow. God, even his morning voice is sexy beyond belief. “Morning.”
His hand slides slightly against my waist as he pulls me closer. “You staring at me?” he asks.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.”
He studies my face for a moment. Then his gaze drifts around the room. Then back to me. “You still here,” he says quietly.
I frown slightly. “Where else would I be? It’s my house” I laugh.
He shrugs slightly, but there’s something softer in his expression now. “Just checking you didn’t run away overnight.”
I shift slightly closer, resting my hand against his chest. “I told you,” I say softly.
He raises an eyebrow. “Told me what?”
I hold his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For a moment he just looks at me. Then that slow, warm smile returns. “Good,” he murmurs, pulling me against him.
Because honestly… I don’t think I could even if I tried.
My phone buzzes again. Then again. Then again. The sound cuts through the quiet bedroom like an overly enthusiastic alarm clock. I groan softly and reach across the bedside table.
“Your fan club?” Rory murmurs sleepily beside me.
I glance down at the screen and laugh. “Not exactly.”
He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can see my face better. The duvet slips lower as he moves, exposing even more of that ridiculous chest. I try not to stare.Fail.
“Alright,” he says slowly, watching me. “That laugh sounded suspicious.”
“It’s the girls.”
“The girls?”
I unlock my phone and open the group chat again. The messages have escalated significantly in the two minutes since I ignored them.
Emma:She’s gone quiet again.
Clara:She’s definitely naked.
Hannah:If she doesn’t reply I’m driving round on my way to work.
