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“These weren’t her sheets. This wasn’t her soft, well-worn pillow under her cheek.
She lifted her head, realizing she wasn’t sleeping on a pillow at all, but a chest. Spencer’s chest.
When she let out a surprised grunt, his big hand cradled the back of her head and pulled her back down. “Shh. Sleep.” His slurred voice lulled her into closing her eyes. Her fingers curled into his bare stomach.
“It’s not morning yet.”
She smiled and settled in. No, not morning yet.
The next time she woke she couldn’t make the same assertion.
Sunshine streamed through the slats of his partially open blinds, warming the bed where she sprawled like a lazy kitten. She yawned and stretched, reaching for Spencer though she already knew she was alone. She already missed his long, solid body, his muscles under her hands, his smell. He was better than any pillow.
After dozing a couple minutes more, reality filtered into her brain. She bolted straight up in bed.
Bright sunlight? What the fuck time was it?
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