His hand moved in slow, lazy circles on my back, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that soothed something deep in me.
“You’re still mad,” he murmured, voice low and rough.
“A little,” I admitted, my words muffled against his chest. “But you kissed me better.”
He snorted, soft and surprised. Then I felt his lips press to the top of my head. “Noted.”
I lifted my head just enough to see his face.
His eyes were half-lidded, but open. Honest. There was something vulnerable in the way he looked at me. Unguarded in a way Rafael rarely was.
“Next time,” I said quietly, “let me stand beside you.”
He nodded, serious now. “I will. I promise.”
And I believed him. I settled against him again, curling into the warmth of his body like I was meant to be there.
His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer until I could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.
I let my eyes fall shut, his scent in my lungs and his skin against mine. Safe. Warm. Home.
Chapter 14
James/ Rafael
JAMES
I woke to warmth.
Not just the kind that came from sunlight bleeding in through the half-drawn curtains, but a deeper warmth. Solid and steady and wrapped around me. Rafael.
His arm was slung across my waist, heavy in the best way, and his face was buried in the curve of my neck, his breath tickling my skin with every slow exhale.
He was still out cold, the kind of deep sleep that only came when someone finally let themselves relax. I lay there for a while, soaking it in.
His scent was all over me. Cinnamon and cedar and something darker underneath, something uniquely him.
It had seeped into my sheets, into my skin, into the places I hadn’t even known were empty until he filled them.
I didn’t want to move. Not yet. Not when it felt this good.
His bare chest was pressed against my back, rising and falling with every inhale, steady and warm and alive. His beard scratched lightly against my shoulder.
When I shifted, just slightly, he murmured something low and unintelligible, tightening his hold like he wasn’t ready to let me go yet.
And maybe I wasn’t ready to move either.
But I knew the moment I got too comfortable, he’d wake up grumpy and hungry. And I wanted to do something for him. Something small and stupid and sweet.
He’d faced down my demons last night without hesitation. He'd held me when I couldn’t hold myself. The least I could do was feed the grumpy bear.
I carefully peeled myself away, moving slowly so I wouldn’t wake him. His brow furrowed the moment I slipped out from under his arm, but he didn’t stir.
Just grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like James before rolling onto his stomach and burying his face deeper into my pillow.
My heart ached a little, in the best way.
I tugged on a pair of sweats and padded barefoot into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
