chest. Once I was there, I squeezed.
Zayne didn’t move.
“I’m hugging you,” I told him, voice muffled against his chest. “Just in case you have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I figured it was that.” His voice sounded like it had when he’d first woken up. “Or you were pretending to be a seal.”
I let out a short laugh, but Zayne remained as stiff as a wall. Realizing my awkward hug was a bit of a failure, I started to pull back.
Zayne moved then, folding an arm over my waist. His fingers curled around the back of my shirt as he held me there. Then, after a few seconds, I felt his body relax against mine, but the grip on my shirt was still there.
His chest rose against mine. “Thank you.”
13
As I floated through waking up, everything smelled like fresh snow and winter. Yet I was toasty, almost too warm. It reminded me of a time I’d dozed off on the roof beside Misha while he slept in his Warden form. It had been early summer, so the sun hadn’t been too strong and the warmth had been surprisingly relaxing.
But I’d ended up with a nasty sunburn.
I was pretty sure I hadn’t fallen asleep on a roof. I started to move, but could only wiggle about an inch. Was I wrapped in a blanket cocoon? I’ve done that before, tossing and turning until blankets ended up wrapping around me like cellophane.
Stretching my legs, I froze when I felt another set of legs against mine.
Last night.
I’d fallen asleep on the couch with Zayne. I hadn’t meant to do that. Had he fallen asleep before me? Or had I passed out plastered against him like I was at this moment? I’d hugged him and he’d thanked me and then... Neither of us had said anything after that.
God, I hoped I hadn’t passed out and trapped him against the back of the couch like a—
The arm around me tightened, and Zayne made a deep rumbling sound that I felt all the way to the tips of my toes.
My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring at a chest covered by a white shirt. That was just about when I realized my cheek was not on a pillow but on rather firm biceps.
Oh my.
There were few things in life stranger than unexpectedly waking up in the arms of someone. Or more wonderful than when it was in the arms of someone like Z—
Stop.
Cutting off those thoughts, I focused on what to do from this point. Slowly, I tilted my head back and lifted my gaze.
Zayne was still asleep.
Thick lashes fanned his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. He looked so...relaxed. Vulnerable, even. My gaze roamed his face. I should probably stop staring at him while he slept, because that was more than just notably creepy, but it was so rare I was this close to him and had such an unobstructed view.
He had a freckle. Three of them, actually, under his right eye. They were faint, but I could... I could see them, and they formed a little triangle. Did he have others? I scanned his face. I didn’t see more, but there was a faint shadow along his jaw and chin. I’d never seen him with facial hair, and I wondered what he’d look like if he let it grow.
Probably hotter. Sounded impossible, considering he was beautiful enough that it bordered on obscene.
For a moment, I did something so stupid and I let myself...dream.
I closed my eyes, imagining what it would be like if I woke up in his arms and he was mine and I was his. I’d kiss him and then snuggle closer, and if that didn’t wake him, I would do something annoying to get him to wake up. My imagination filled in what would come next. Zayne, because of who he was, wouldn’t be annoyed that I’d stolen minutes or even hours of his sleep. He’d laugh and then give me that sleepy, sexy smile of his. Then he’d roll me under him and kiss me. And of course, in my perfect fantasy, there’d be no such thing as morning breath. So that kiss would be deep and long, a languid caress that would lead to more kissing. I pressed my lips together, squirming as my skin heated. Zayne’s shirt would come off, so would mine and then there’d be nothing—
The arm around me curled again, and suddenly we were chest to chest, hip to hip. My eyes popped