Hell, it might even be midday, she didn’t know. Brianna stared at the ceiling. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding tight, as even breaths passed over her shoulder. Every limb hummed at the memory of what they’d shared, and how they exploded in each other’s arms. After their brief talk, she’d closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. The conversation about her family made her remember a past she now looked back on with pain. As the silence thickened, Tristan had fallen asleep. And she lay awake, waiting for something terrible to happen, for the anger to burst forth. All she felt, however, was satiated. She turned and faced the sleeping man next to her. His soft breathing and relaxed features stirred warmth in her chest. Temptation to touch him tingled through her fingers, and she bit back a curse. The anger she expected didn’t exist, or maybe it did, but she was too tired to revel in it. Being with him had been so beautiful. She frowned at her choice of words: beautiful? It shouldn’t have been.
