It crashes through me in waves, and I’m pretty sure I say his name, or maybe just a string of incoherent sounds. He follows a moment later, groaning against my neck, hips stuttering before he collapses half on top of me.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Just breathes. His weight is heavy but I don’t want him to move.
“I think you killed me,” I finally manage.
He laughs against my neck. “You okay?”
“I am much better than okay.” I trace a finger down his jaw. “I might need a minute before I can feel my legs again.”
“Take all the time you need.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Later—much later—we’re lying in a tangle of sheets, my head on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. I can hear his heartbeat under my ear, gradually slowing back to normal.
We lie there in comfortable silence for a while, and I’m just starting to drift toward sleep when something occurs to me.
“Zayden?”
“Mm?”
“Did you lock the door?”
A pause. A very long pause.
“I... think so?”
“You think so?”
“I’m pretty sure I—”
And then, as if the universe has been waiting for exactly this moment, there’s a small knock on the door.
“Daddy?”
We both freeze. I’ve never moved so fast in my life—scrambling for sheets, for clothes, for anything to cover myself while Zayden nearly falls off the bed trying to find his boxers.
“One second, Maze!” His voice comes out strangled. “Just—stay there, okay?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I know, baby. One second.”
I’m under the covers now, blanket pulled up to my chin, watching Zayden hop around trying to get his legs into his boxers. He bangs his shin on the bedframe and bites back a curse.
“Smooth,” I whisper.
“Not helpful.”
He finally gets them on and cracks the door open, slipping out into the hallway. I hear murmured voices—Maisie’s small and sleepy, his low and soothing—and then footsteps padding away toward her room.
I lie there, heart pounding, caught somewhere between mortification and hysterical laughter.
This is my life now—sneaking around like a teenager, hiding under the covers while my... boyfriend? Whatever he is... puts his daughter back to bed.
It should feel strange. Complicated. Maybe a little scary.
Instead, it just feels right.
Zayden comes back ten minutes later, closing the door softly behind him—and this time, I hear the lock click.
