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I stare.

What the fuck?

I lift our joined hands. The chain rattles. Callie's eyes stay closed.

I stare at her. Then the cuff. Then her again.

She handcuffed herself to me.

While I was fucking asleep.

I sit up.

Callie slides partially off my chest with a sleepy groan.

I don't give a shit. I'm too busy staring at the metal around my wrist like it personally betrayed me.

I'm a light sleeper. I'm trained to wake at unfamiliar sounds. Unfamiliar movement. A fucking change in air pressure can wake me if I'm somewhere I don't trust.

Apparently, a five-foot-something blonde can attach herself to my body with law-enforcement restraints, and I sleep through the entire fucking thing.

That should bother me. And it does. Just not for the reason it should.

I felt safe.

The realization hits so hard I stop breathing for a second.

I fucking trusted her enough to shut down. Enough to stop listening. Enough to let her⁠—

I lift our wrists again.

Do this shit.

Callie's nose wrinkles. Then one green eye opens. It lands on me, then drops to our hands before going back to me.

The corner of her mouth twitches. “Morning.”

I stare at her.

Her other eye opens. “Did you sleep well?”

“What the fuck is this?”

She looks at our wrists as though noticing the handcuffs for the first time.

“Oh. That.”

“Yes. That.”

“Insurance.”

“Against what?”

Her expression changes slightly. “You disappearing.”

And just like that, my irritation dies.

Don't disappear before I wake up.